


A Closer Walk With Thee

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Castiel, Breeding Kink, Come as Lube, Divine Interventions that we're going to pretend totally happened, Established Relationship, Grace Kink, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt!Sam, Like really really filthy sex, M/M, Married Sex, Rimming, Switching, Tattoo Kink, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, angel!Sam, filthy as in I didn't know I was capable of writing such a thing, filthy sex, molting, piercing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 8 AU.  Following the completion of the Trials, Sam's left with a broken body and even more broken soul - he hasn't seen Castiel in two months and he very well may be on the verge of death, fearing each breath is his last.</p>
<p>Only Heaven has a reward for Sam, one that he could never have imagined even in his wildest dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yet again another fic that grew from a bunch of messy Tumblr drabbles - I knew my dropping filth everywhere would result in a (self-proclaimed) masterpiece. Anyway, massive shout out to Janis for helping bang this thing into shape and all of the kind Tumblr folks for encouraging my dirty ways. Guys, this one's for you.

            _I am the Lord your God._

Sam sits up, blinking his eyes clear of the sleep he was so desperately trying to catch up on.  He reaches for the gun under his pillow with one hand and pushes his hair back from his eyes, breath coming heavy from his lungs. 

            “Who’s there?”  It comes out shaky, as loud as Sam can manage from his wrecked body, feeling as if he used his own corporeal self to slam shut the gates of Heaven and Hell.  In a way, he did.  He just wishes he had actually died at this point because he’s nearly positive that the ache sitting so deep in his bones is worse than the big sleep.

            _For he who has had faith for so long, Sam, why do you doubt now?_ Whomever – or whatever – it is, the voice is deep, rolling.  Sam’s sure if it were Dean there’d be a Lion King joke but he’s not going to do that, not in the face (if this voice even has one) of what a part of Sam may actually believe in God Himself.

            “Because I’ve been screwed over by Heaven too many times and seen and felt too much to let that make me believe.”  Sam sighs, sitting up and pushing the blankets off of him.  He manages to get down to the floor and kneel, looking up at the ceiling tiles of his room.  “But if you are God, then I’ve got nothing to lose.”  Sam folds his hands expectantly, threading his fingers together and waiting, setting the gun within reach should he need it.

            _Clearly part of you does believe, Sam.  I know you are at heart still a praying man, no matter what has happened to you.  It’s all you’ve had for much of your life, your faith.  Faith in yourself. Others.  Forces beyond your control._

            Sam can’t help but scoff, hoping that he’s not talking to one of his hallucinations that still tend to spring up.  “Yeah well some of those were awfully lousy mistakes on my part.  Don’t quite believe that God would want to talk to me, of all people”

            _The angel you took as your husband – Castiel – he seems to believe in you.  He’s one of my children, and I love them all.  Even the ones who fell so far from Grace that they condemned themselves to eternal darkness.  Why should this not be good enough for me?_

            “Because I’m crazy!”  Sam’s suddenly shouting in spite of the fact that it makes his throat burn, anger and regret curling his insides.  “I’ve had one of your ‘beloved angels” inside my head and body and it nearly _killed_ me.  And then this – these trials – I did them.  And what do I get from it? The fact that I can barely move and it feels like I’ll drop dead at any minute, that’s what.  If you are God, I’d like to know why I’m still here when I should have been dead a long, long time ago.” Sam’s voice drops to a bare whisper, himself being able to barely hear it. “And it’s not like Castiel spends a lot of time around here lately anyway.”  There are tears now, running hotly down his cheeks.  “Just tell me, if you are God, why.”

            _Sam, I have never once held doubt that you were humanity’s savior.  Heaven’s savior.  Then again if I had, what kind of creator would I be?  I admit that what I have wrought grew beyond even my control and Sam, running a universe is no easy task.  But you, Heaven’s most dearly beloved, you have earned so much.  Have faith, Sam._

            And then, silence.  Crushing, dark silence and Sam’s still on his knees at the foot of his bed, looking up at the ceiling and fifty feet of earth above it like they’re going to give him the answer he wants.  Of course there is none, not a flicker of divine writing or a messenger from God or anything, just nothing but silence and Sam’s heart thudding dully in his ears.  It’s worse than any words poured into his thoughts and he suddenly can’t stay here, shakily gets to his feet and pulls on sweats and his bathrobe, the corridor outside his room dark save for the dim strip lighting along the edge of the molding. 

            It’s a weary trudge to the library, the one place he feels some degree of solace and quietude.  Maybe it’s just ingrained from spending so much time in them throughout his life or simply the fact he likes being surrounded by knowledge but it does at least help calm him, wiping his eyes of the tears that still remained.  The leather chairs have by this point conformed to his body and he seats himself in the one nearest the angelology section, pulling out the book on divine messages and flipping through its time-worn pages, not really seeing the words in front of him because of course the Trials have corrupted his body so much that he needs reading glasses to see and of course they’re upstairs on the bedside table, next to his knife and he’s just not willing to make the trip back to get them because his body _hurts._

It’s akin to holding Dean in his arms, being torn to shreds by hell hounds.  Struggling to contain the Devil within his body so that everyone else but for him can live.  Watching his brother descend into a place that no matter what he tried he just couldn’t get him out.  Listening to the same brother tell him that a vampire had essentially taken his place.  It’s a _helpless_ kind of hurt, and that’s what bothers him the most – the fact that he can’t seem to do a damn thing about it.  It’s not something that can be fixed with a few shots of whiskey and a painkiller, no this is as much emotional as it is physical, save for the fact that the bodily hurt can’t be fixed by any medicine in the world because it was caused by something beyond it.

            Sam wants to cry, hell _needs_ to cry.  But he knows it won’t solve anything, the voice that had come to him such a short while ago only compounding his confusion because for once, he doesn’t have an answer.  He can’t ask Dean or Cas or Bobby because they aren’t here, Dean asleep in his own room and God he doesn’t deserve to be let in on more of Sam’s problems, Bobby’s dead and Castiel is in heaven or hell or somewhere, having left two months ago with the intention of “making sure the way is clear” or whatever the hell that means.  Sam loves him, loves him with every fiber of his being, looks down at the promise he made on his left ring finger right before the Trials started and he misses him terribly.

            But even his faith in his own spouse is starting to dwindle with each passing day because he’s simply disappeared and Sam can’t find him.

            And that scares Sam because he has never once not had faith in this angel that’s loved him back a thousand times more than Sam’s ever felt like he deserved.

            Steepling his fingers against his forehead he bows, elbows resting on his knees.  He thinks for a long moment, trying to find the words in Enochian that Castiel has taught him at every chance he has.

            “Castiel, I need you.  If you can hear me, speak to me through whatever means you can.  I know it may not be right now, or tomorrow, or even next month but I have to know – are you still there?”  Sam lets the words calm him, the beautiful syllables rolling easy and naturally off his tongue.  Sam’s always had a thing for languages, no matter how difficult or obscure they may be.  Learning, deepening his knowledge, those are the building blocks Sam’s always stood hard and fast on and right now, he needs to be enlightened more than ever.  He almost feels selfish for wanting purely for himself but right now, all he has is his own fucked up little world of crazy and self-doubt and no one but him can make it better.

            It has to be two hours that Sam sits there in the library, nothing but the tick of the heating to accompany his thoughts, a soft chorus to the rattling of his own breath that a year ago came so easy and freely to him, no matter that he was hallucinating the devil.  Sam’s about to get up and try to go back to sleep when his wedding ring starts to glow so bright it hurts his eyes, the metal hotter than normal against his skin temperature and suddenly it’s off his finger and laying at his feet, the grey pearl inlay shining white – Sam’s got no idea what’s going on, simply standing back against the book case nearest him and waiting.

            The light dims, only for a soft pillar of glowing gold to ascend from the ring’s edges and start to make words in front of Sam’s eyes.  They take a moment to form but the instructions are clear, even to Sam’s blurred vision.

            _Get dressed, Sam.  Come outside and go to the top of our hill.  I’ll be there waiting for you._

Sam’s heart leaps, the writing disappearing as if it had never existed in the first place and he hopes deeply that this isn’t some dream brought about by his completely whacked out brain – but it’s more of an answer than he’s had in months and Cas is the only person who would say “our hill.”  He manages to get back to his room quickly, pulling on jeans and thick wool socks, boots sliding on easy over them and he puts on long sleeve plaid, red and white, over all of it going his long coat to keep out the late October chill.  He creeps back out quietly, leaving Dean a note that he’ll be back soon (he doesn’t actually know if that’s the case but he has to tell him something) and in spite of his layers he’s still chilled to the bone when he steps outside.  It’s a clear, clear night, the stars looking brighter than they have in a long time and Sam can’t make out individual constellations but he know they’re there, the moon half full and casting an otherworldly glow over the ground at his feet.  He starts to walk, knowing that climbing up isn’t going to be easy but if Cas is there waiting, he’ll do it.

            He hasn’t made this trek in a long while, not since Cas had disappeared with a flutter of wings and a kiss two months ago and it’s like coming back home, ascending the rising earth in front of him – he’s missed this, this quiet spot that only he and Castiel know about, a quiet clearing on top of the hill just to the right of the bunker’s entrance.  He can’t count how many sunrises he’s watched here with Cas, how many promises of devotion they’ve exchanged and the thoughts warm him from the inside, finding it easier and easier to move upwards with each step and by the time he reaches the place where the trees part he’s starting to feel the first twinges of hope deep inside him.

            They turn to a constant hum when he hears his name come from the lips he loves most.

            “Sam.”  Castiel is there, standing right under a moonbeam and he’s gorgeous, stepping forward and the light – it moves with him.  Sam looks confused for a moment, only for Cas to come close enough to take his hands and rub warm thumbs over his knuckles.  Cas looks up for a moment before turning that beautiful blue gaze back on Sam.  “I suppose this is the first time you’ve ever seen my halo, isn’t it?”

            Sam breaks out into a full smile, dimples pitting his cheeks deeply.  “I guess it never occurred to me that you had one.”  He leans forward and touches his forehead to his husband’s, breathing deep through his nose and inhaling the clean, pure scent of earth and ozone that seems to exude from Cas’s every pore.  “I missed you.”

            Cas’s hands move to cup Sam’s face, bringing his lips forward to meet his own. “And I you, Sam.  But we don’t have much time.  Close your eyes and hold on tight.”  Sam’s arms go tight around Cas’s body, eyes screwed shut as tight as they’ll go.  It’s not the first time Cas has carried him but it’s the first time in a long one and all he can do right now is trust. 

            Sam feels like they pass through the centers of stars, galaxies, all of it creeping in hot on his skin but never enough to burn him, no warmer than that of Cas’s protective Grace surrounding him.  He doesn’t see anything save for darkness that’s strangely comforting to him, the sensation of heavenly warmth touching every part of his body, working its way through his veins and arteries and it feels good, to be completely enveloped in Cas and he nuzzles Cas’s chest – or at least he thinks he does because he can’t really feel much else other than pleasant heat.

            Perhaps it’s hours or minutes or even seconds that pass before they land, Sam always loses track of time when he flies with Castiel.  When he opens his eyes they’re standing in a sea of light, a walkway underneath their feet.  Sam cranes his neck, looking around to take in his surroundings.  As far as he can see it’s nothing but light, pure golds and whites that remind him of holy fire, save for this doesn’t burn and char, it simply illuminates.

            Castiel answers his question before Sam can ask it.  “I wanted to show you what you helped to make, Sam. You have brought peace and tranquility back to Heaven, especially this part of it, the place where God Himself resides.”  Cas puts his hands on Sam’s shoulders and smiles at him.  “You have restored the House of God, Sam.  No one’s been able to do this for millennia and when you slammed shut the gates of Hell it’s as though all the darkness at Heaven’s edges disappeared with it.”  Cas gives Sam a kiss, warm as starlight on his lips.  “And for doing that Sam, I have brought you here for something very, very special.”

            Sam’s speechless, trying to process the words that Cas has told him but he can’t – not for all of his knowledge, words, the brilliance of his own mind – this, to have restored Heaven itself is beyond him and he wants to ask how but he knows that even if Cas tells him now he won’t be able to come to understand it, not at this point in time.  Besides, Cas is pulling him forward, hand linked tightly together, Cas wearing his wedding ring on his right hand so that he and Sam’s are both touching skin, pressed to each other’s palms and Sam realizes that they’re both glowing with that same light he saw in the library. 

            “I never told you where I got our rings from, did I Sam?”  Cas turns his head and smiles again, looking upon the beautiful face he’s come to adore so much.

            “No, you didn’t.”  Sam returns his smile, brighter than Cas has seen it in a very long time.

            “I made them here Sam.  Just for us.  For not only cementing our union but for another purpose, something that can only be accomplished here.”  They’re suddenly ascending steps up the grandest set of doors Sam’s ever seen, a wave of Cas’s hand parting them, the two angels that stand to the side as guards both bowing as Sam passes by them – that throws him for a loop, truly it does, considering that Cas isn’t exactly heavenly royalty and-

            “They bow for you Sam, for what you’ve done to help them.”  Cas keeps them moving along but a swell of emotion surges through Sam’s body, making him suddenly feel well, undeserving.  Heaven was supposed to kill him, not have its own creations bowing before him. 

            Of all the things in his life that Sam never expected, this shoots right to the top of the list.

            Eventually (and Sam uses that term in the loosest possible sense) they come to a very, very long room, angels standing all around it, falling silent as soon as Sam and Castiel enter its doors, dropping to their knees and bowing their heads as Cas urges Sam forward towards this great, shining light.  It’s far too bright to look upon but for some reason it doesn’t hurt Sam’s eyes in the least, his feet keeping moving in spite of his own apprehension. 

            The light dims a bit as Sam approaches closer, stopping about ten feet away, Cas bowing next to him, urging Sam to do the same.  Sam does, keeping his head down, only for Cas to reach over and tilt his chin up and give him an affectionate look, smiling before he turns back to the light.  It transforms, grow dim until it takes the shape of a man, garbed in white robes that seem to flow for eternity and at the same time stop, hands and feet and head glowing, vaguely shaped to that of a human being, brighter than the center of a star.  Sam’s a little terrified but he can’t turn away, thinking to himself that if he does he’s likely to be-

            “I shan’t smite you Sam.  I have not brought you this far to end your life.”  It’s the same voice as earlier, except far less distant and so much clearer, as if the syllables resonate down into Sam’s very bones.  “You clearly have fear inside you.  Don’t.”  The being extends forward a hand, Sam reaching for it being drawn up from his feet.  “I am the Lord Your God and you have no reason to be afraid right now, Sam Winchester.  Be at peace.”

            And suddenly, Sam is.  He kneels again, God’s hand upon his head in a gesture of blessing.  “My heavenly Father…” They are the only words that Sam can form at the moment, at a loss for anything else because _God is touching him and he’s not dead._

“Sam, you have done far more for this Earth and Heaven than any other human or angel has – save for this being you have chosen to take as your partner.”  He gestures to Castiel, still behind Sam and bowing.  Sam almost wonders if God knows about the havoc that Cas wreaked

            “And he has been forgiven for it Sam, they all have.  You have allowed me to put things right.  For such noble sacrifice in the face of everything the darkest of my creations have wrought upon you, Sam Winchester it is my plea to bestow upon you the gift of Grace.  You have earned yourself a place in the House of God for eternity.  I cannot command you to this Sam – the choice is yours alone.”  God’s hand is gone from Sam’s head, His palms spread in a gesture of invitation and if this isn’t the most out of the world thing Sam’s ever experienced – God wishing for _him_ to accept a gift, instead of having it forced upon him.  Sam opens and shuts his mouth six times before he even manages to get a single word out, looking around for an answer, Cas still bowed and unmoving, as closed off as he could be.

            “You are of course free to remain on Earth as long as you wish, and your brother is also assured a place here upon the end of his life.  No judgment shall be passed upon either of you for the choices you have made.”  Sam looks back to God, the featureless beams of light offering no expression of any sort – just pure, divine energy.  Sam takes a moment to think, breathes in deep – tries rather, given his damaged lungs and that’s what makes him stop and think – God could heal his body right here but instead he’s giving him the means to heal himself, offering salvation and Paradise in one package – and all Sam has to do is say yes.  This feeling of rightness starts to float through his subconscious – and the honest truth is, he has no other option save for death. 

            “And I will be allowed to remain with Castiel, should I accept?”

            “Your union can only be made stronger if you do.  Sam, there is nothing for you to lose by accepting and if you cannot accept the words of Me, I can do nothing more to convince you.  This Grace is for you Sam, and you alone.  I know that you once stood to be the vessel of one of my children – this has nothing to do with that.” 

            Sam laughs, not in mockery or derision but because there’s nothing at this point he can do.  He controls himself and then looks back at Cas one more time, spies the ring on his right hand where it rests by his side.  It’s got wings circling in and out of its blue inlays, exactly like Sam’s.  The moment he’d put it on Cas’s finger, on their hill with nothing but the stars as witnesses, Sam with tears of happiness streaming down his face, – that’s what he thinks of as he turns back to God and bows again.

            “I accept, for you are the Lord My God.  I place my decision in your hands.”  Sam lets out a deep, long breath, awaiting God’s response.

            “And as my son, Sam, I bestow upon you the gift of Holy Grace, the same I have accorded to each and every one of my children through their lives.”  Sam, Castiel, and God are suddenly alone, in a thicket of forest, a spring at their feet.

            “Castiel, you are to baptize him and make him ready.  You may take as long as you need.”  With that, God is gone and he and Castiel are left alone.

            Cas wipes tears from his eyes and places his hands on Sam’s upper arms.  “Do you understand why I was away for so long now?  I was helping to prepare your Grace.  For… this.  Sam I have always wanted this for you, more than anyone because you deserve it, absolutely and completely.  Will you allow me to take this journey with you?”

            Sam’s smiling, reaching up to touch his husband’s wet cheek.  “Castiel I made that promise to you already before I even knew this was going to happen.  I’m ready.”  Cas gives Sam another kiss, simple and chaste. There will be time for more later but now, he must prepare not only Sam but himself.  He’s only ever been on the receiving end of baptism, never having performed it before.  It’s a private thing performed between one angel and another, and the choice of who does the baptizing is never arbitrary.  Sam strips naked, settling into the spring, followed by Castiel a moment later.  Cas pours the water over his head thrice, using his hands to do so, some archaic Enochian phrase on his tongue with each motion of his hands – Sam can pick out roots and letters but it’s beyond even his knowledge of it.  He does however feel like he’ll understand soon enough and he’s quiet as he sits in the Grace warmed water of what he’ll later find out is a very, very special place in the Garden of the Lord.

            He and Cas finish, still quiet as they’re dressed in robes of white, diaphanous and yet completely opaque, Sam’s hair drying as God comes back to them, reaching out his hands for Sam and Castiel each to take.  They are taken back to the room in which they were first brought, an altar in the place of where God was sitting earlier.  They’re released, God appearing on the other side and beckoning Sam and Castiel forward, Sam reaching for his husbands hand as they approach.  Once he is facing God, his robe slips off, leaving him naked before the Lord.  He’s not ashamed, comforted by the fact that he can see Cas out of the corner of his eye.

            “Your body is ready Sam, cleansed by the waters of Paradise.  In mind and spirit, you are also ready.  I only ask once more Sam – do you wish to be an Angel of The Lord and be welcome in this House forever?”

            “I am, Father.”  Sam says it with deep conviction, every angel in the place going to their knees.  Sam finds himself on his back on the altar, feeling and not feeling all at once the solidness of it underneath him.  God closes his eyes, Sam seeing the blue-white flash of Grace through his eyelids.  He knows how this works, opens his mouth and exhales, waiting and that first touch of divine energy to his tongue, that warm, warm tendril of purity moves in, followed slowly at first and then faster and faster, seeking its way to the very ends of Sam’s veins, arteries, pores and limbs, running through his body and fixing, repairing, restoring, Sam’s eyes flying open right as the last of it enters his body and he sits up, gasping for breath, chest expanding outward as his Grace settles and moves and for the first time in months he truly, deeply _breathes._

God offers his hands up, the angels getting to their feet and shouting “Hosanna!” so loudly it’s deafening and then there’s this brilliant white flash of light and then just as suddenly he and Castiel are standing back on their hill, overlooking Lebanon and the next thing Sam knows is peaceful darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision, Castiel smiling down at him and then he’s cradled in the hands of peaceful, beautiful sleep.

.  .  .

            Waking up again is a bit of an odd experience.

            The first thought that comes to Sam’s mind of course is that angels don’t sleep.  Castiel “rests” but it’s not really sleep so why should he now that he’s…

An

_Angel._

Sam sits up – he’s in his own bed again but this time Castiel is there, lying next to him with his eyes closed.  Sam runs a hand down his body, getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom.  He’s wearing only his underwear so he gets a good look at himself in the mirror.

            It’s as though he has a whole new body.

            Gone are the years of scars and cuts and bruises, the crooked knuckles and the background ache in his haw.  There’s nothing save for clean, undamaged skin, his torso filled back out from pre-trial days, the muscles he had worked to keep strong and in fighting shape back and in fuller definition than before.  He also realizes he can actually breathe again, his lungs completely and totally restored.  He touches his face, tracing over his cheeks and eyes – his cheeks aren’t sunken and sallow like they had been, acne scars from years and years ago gone and Sam feels like he’s dreaming because he’s better, better than he has been in years.

            He almost pinches himself to make sure this isn’t just another giant hallucination but then Castiel is there as his side, sliding an arm around his waist and kissing his shoulder.

            “It’s real Sam, I promise.”  Cas’s voice is quiet, watching Sam’s hands run over his own body and he looks almost deliriously happy – it makes Cas’s heart swell huge.

            “I… I really have… you know…”

            “Grace, Sam, yes.  Would you like me to show you what you’re now capable of?”  Cas waits expectantly, giving Sam a little more time to check himself over.

            “Yeah just… let me make sure it’s me I’m actually staring at.”

            Cas gives a gentle laugh and reaches up to card his fingers through Sam’s hair.  “It is you Sam, just that your body is no longer afflicted by what’s been wrought upon you.  But it’s the same body that you’ve had from birth, that has not changed.”  His fingers move higher up Sam’s head and right at the crown he feels Sam give a little shake, his knees going weak for a moment.  “Forgive me Sam – I touched your halo.  Your Grace is still new and very sensitive to outside touch.  But I will teach you how to hone it.”

            Sam turns and faces Cas, settling his hands on his husband’s bare hips.  “Yeah about that – why was I asleep? I thought angels didn’t.”

            “We still have to rest to recharge, as it were, you know that.  Your Grace is so new that you just needed the equivalent of REM sleep so that it could settle on its own.  You’ve been asleep for nearly forty eight hours.” 

            Sam’s look is suddenly one of great concern.  “Dean!  Does he know that I’ve been out that long?”

            Cas’s touch stills him.  “Yes, he does.  He doesn’t know what’s transpired but I assured him you were in good hands.  Would you like to go and speak to him?  He’s awake now and you need to be the one to tell him.”

            Sam nods, exhaling and giving Cas’s forehead a kiss.  “Alright.  Let’s go.”  Sam dresses quickly, pulling on a pair of discarded gym shorts and a t-shirt, Cas following close behind in his favorite flannels and one of Dean’s old Led Zeppelin tees.  Dean’s in the kitchen, drinking coffee and generally looking nervous.  The moment he sees Sam he’s out of his seat and crossing over to him, hugging him tight like Sam hasn’t changed a bit.

            “When you said ‘I’ll be back soon’ I didn’t realize it would mean, you know, having your wife run me off so you could ‘rest undisturbed.’  Y’okay Sammy?”

            Sam doesn’t even bother to acknowledge his brother’s dig at Cas’s expense.  “Yeah, Dean, I am.  Um… better than ever actually.”  Sam sits down, gesturing for Dean to do the same.  “I have some news, really, really wonderful news.”

            “Don’t tell me, you and Cas are adopting.”  Dean tries his best to sound like he’s joking but he hears loud and clear the seriousness in Sam’s tone.

            “No, Dean.”  Sam looks down at the wooden table and then back up, right into Dean’s eyes.  “I’m an angel.”

            Dean, normally ready with a remark of some sort, just sits there in silence, mouth parting slightly before he closes it again, wondering if this is some sort of joke that Sam’s just doing a really good job of keeping a straight face with or if he’s being completely serious.  This time when Dean tries to speak it goes much better for him.

            “How?”  Dean’s not asking because he thinks he’s being smart, he genuinely doesn’t know.

            Sam takes Cas’s hand under the table and clears his throat.  “You’re not gonna believe this, really.  Hell I’m still having some trouble wrapping my head around it but Dean, God came to me in the middle of the night and the next thing I knew I was standing before Him in His House.  He said that he and Castiel had made Grace especially for me as a result of completing the Trials and now… now I’m an angel.  I wish I had some deeper explanation but that’s it, really.” 

            Dean’s paused with his coffee halfway to his lips, looking back and forth between Sam and Cas, trying to look like he comprehends what Sam’s just told him but it’s all show – those were the last words he was expecting to hear come out of his brother’s mouth.  “So you chose this right, you didn’t just get poofed upstairs and then come back as a member of the God Squad?”

            Sam shakes his head.  “No Dean, it was my choice completely.  Even up to the moment that God… He… He held my Grace in his hand and gave me one more chance to say no if I wanted to.  But I didn’t.  And yes Dean, God is real.  And… shiny, really shiny.  And I guess I’m proof of that.”  Sam can’t really add anything else, nor does he have to, given Dean’s thoughtful face.

            “Can you show me?”  Dean’s tone is dead serious.

            Sam looks to Cas for a moment, then back to Dean.  “See the thing is I don’t really know how.  Not yet.  The Grace is still settling in my body and even then I wouldn’t know how to make it work.”

            Castiel jumps in with a thought.  “I’m going to teach Sam how to access his Grace and use it, of course.  Give him a couple days and we can offer you all the proof you need Dean, I promise.”

            Dean looks at both of them, getting up with his mug of coffee and leaving them alone.  “I’m glad for you Sammy, I really am.”  He walks past them, ruffles Sam’s hair in a gesture of brotherly love (and aggravation) and Sam has to bite back the groan that dares to escape from his lips.

            “A halo huh?  That’s the first thing we’re gonna work on… making less… sensitive?”

            Castiel nods. “Of course, Sam.  Are you hungry?”

            Sam thinks about it for a moment, thinking of how he’s seen Cas eat before, even if it was just for his benefit.  “Not really, no.  Guess I’m being sustained by heavenly energy now, huh.”

            “You are.  If you are ready Sam, I am prepared to teach you the ways of the angelic body.  We’ll need a clear, open space.  Perhaps the basement or the gym?”  Castiel starts to get up, only to be pulled down into Sam’s lap.

            “First, I want to kiss my husband.”  Sam puts one big hand on the back of Cas’s head and draws him in, tongue immediately seeking Cas’s mouth and Cas’s lips part right away, Sam’s other hand on the small of his back and scritching across the skin there, making Cas hum with contentment and God it’s good, the first real taste of Cas he’s gotten in over two months, his movements quickly turning needy, Cas’s fingers ever so gently sliding through his hair and this time Sam lets himself be noisy, moaning into Cas’s mouth as he feels his halo get pulled, not enough to hurt but he can _feel_ every curve and bend of Cas’s fingers, more so than he ever has.

            “Keep doing that” he murmurs against Cas’s lips, Cas doing so and rocking his hips over Sam’s erection, hot and thick through his shorts under his thigh, Sam taking the hand he has on Cas’s head and rubbing him through his pajama pants as best he can, Cas’s fingers threading and moving through Sam’s chestnut locks until he bites down on Cas’s bottom lip, Cas feeling Sam’s come pulse sticky even through the fabric of their clothes, keeping his fingers moving until Sam makes him come too, a wet spot growing on the flannel to one side as he releases, both of them panting as they come down from their first shared orgasm in ages.

            Sam opens his eyes, not having moved an inch away from Cas.  “We’re gonna have to talk more about that later.  Fuck Cas, I’ve never blown so fast in my life.”

            Castiel smiles, kissing Sam’s mouth.  “Arousal make your Grace very, very sensitive and yours is still so new that it doesn’t take long for your body to respond quickly.  Now you know why my orgasms are always so powerful.  However, before we incorporate it into more… carnal activities, I need to show you how to contain so that it’s not a hindrance to your functioning.”

            Sam nods, forehead resting against Cas’s still.  “Alright.  I’m ready.”  Sam gently pushes Cas off of him, their fingers threaded together and bumping against each other as they descend to the bunker’s gym.  They take a few moments to clear some of the equipment out of the way, leaving themselves a large space in the middle of the floor.  Castiel gestures for Sam to face him, taking off his clothes and putting them to the side.  Sam does the same, joining Cas in sitting cross-legged on the floor.  They aren’t touching but all Sam would have to do is lean forward and he could but this isn’t about that, not right now anyway.

            Castiel closes his eyes, Sam doing the same and mimicking the deep breath Cas takes.  “The first step Sam is that you must perceive it. You have to see and feel and hear all at once.  Grace is not some conscious manifestation, in spite of the fact you can feel it when I touch your hair.  It’s subconscious unless you bring it to the fore.  However, yours is still so new that you have yet to be able to keep it contained and some of it still resides outside your body.  Our goal here is to internalize so that you may come to know it even further.”

            Castiel stops talking with his mouth but Sam soon hears him inside his head.

            _Can you feel my presence within you?_

Sam smiles a little before he replies.  _I can._

_Good.  See me in your mind’s eye, as I am right now._ Sam follows Cas’s instruction and behind his eyelids Cas is indeed there, still sitting on the floor but there’s this beautiful glow around him, a deep blue-white that reminds Sam of the skies in this part of Kansas during the summer.  It shines out from every pore and inch of skin, not blinding at all, simply very, very beautiful.

            _If I had known I could see you like this I would have done it sooner.  Your Grace is breathtaking,  Castiel_

Cas in his mind smiles and it’s absolutely radiant around him.  _Take a look at your own, Sam.  Outside your body it didn’t do itself justice but seeing it in and on you… Sam I’ve never seen an angel with more beautiful Grace._

Sam does, raises his hand up and what he sees he couldn’t have been prepared for – light, purely, white and gold light streaming from his fingertips, his arms, his entire being, watching it move with his the motions of his fingers as he bends them, not having the words to accurately say what he’s feeling and experiencing.

            _Your Grace shines brighter than that of Polaris, Sam.  Your soul outshines even the light of the North Star.  It’s the only thing I felt that came closest to representing you and even then it’s not even close to what I see in you._ Sam looks up, reaching for Cas’s hands and taking them, gripping them right and Cas’s wedding ring is a brilliant band of arcing light on his fingers, Sam bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

            _I don’t deserve any of this Cas._

_Oh but you do Sam, you do.  This and so much more.  But now, we have much to learn.  Feel me, watch me first._ Sam can’t put to words what happens next but he understands it, comes to know immediately the process as Castiel’s Grace arcs and curls back in on itself, dimming as beautifully as a sunset until all that’s left is Cas’s earthly vessel, only his wedding ring faintly glowing.  They’re still within each other’s minds but Sam could be fooled otherwise as Cas speaks again.

            _Do you understand what to do?_

_Yes._

Sam copies what Castiel did, slowly pulling his Grace in on itself until he feels it flowing through his veins as smoothly as his own blood, the only sign that it’s there being this background warmth, like a jacket around his whole body or as he’s been out in the sun – it’s not uncomfortable, simply comforting in a way and Sam draws into it, sinking deep within his own presence.

            _You’re already starting to listen Sam – see, you’re a natural._ Cas’s voice within himself is no louder than the sweet, quiet words they exchange at night together, holding each other tight in their arms.

            _I guess I am, aren’t I?  Do you mind if I try and figure out this one on my own?_

_I’m not going anywhere.  It’s yours entirely to explore Sam._

Sam can still feel Cas’s Grace touching his but it’s not so distracting to the point where he can’t focus fully on his own, if anything giving him a touchstone so that he doesn’t become lost.  As he moves into his own essence he hears the sound of galaxies and suns rotating, elemental hums of nature and stardust and all living things.  He doesn’t know all, no angel does, as Cas has explained but he has this profoundly deep sense of _understanding_ – he can reach down to the very building blocks of his own body, both angelic and fleshly, can see the blood flowing through his arteries, the oxygen in his lungs, can feel the cool air of the bunker’s subterranean levels more clearly on his naked skin than he ever could before and it’s completely and overwhelmingly _stunning._

_It’s amazing, isn’t it?  Grace is formed from the very beginnings of God’s creation.  Every angel carries within them these same base elements, the very materials God used to create the universe.  What he reserved for the construction of your Grace, however, has existed since before the beginning of time, Sam.  No other angel, not even myself, has this with within them.  Not even the archangels had the privilege of being made from the very original material.  Each and every angel’s Grace is of course unique to them but Sam yours truly is one of a kind._

Sam starts to come back up out of his self, rising to Castiel’s words and he’s overwhelmed and filled with joy beyond anything he could have possibly comprehended before.  _So this was God’s plan all along?_

_It was, Sam.  But the time was not right until now.  I know that you are a man of faith but even then you question.  I do hope that you see why heaven made the choices it did in this matter._

Sam nods, the light around him moving with the slight dip of his head.  _I do, Cas.  But at this point all I can really be is grateful, as the Lord Himself has given this to me.  Kind of hard to not be content._

_Your ability to forgive and be compassionate is truly and deeply admirable.  Another reason why I’m so happy that this is real Sam.  Us.  Together._

_Can we come out of… this now Cas?  I want to look at you without… all of this._

_Of course.  Follow me, Sam._ It’s like ascending from the bottom of a warm, deep pool, lazy and slow as Sam pulls out of his own subconscious, feeling Castiel right in front of him and when he opens his eyes again there is no heavenly light beaming from them, just the pale glow of the overheard fluorescents and the gym around them.  If anything, Castiel looks to be still deep in the connection for a moment before he opens his eyes, looking at Sam and reaching for his hands.

            “Have you begun to understand your own capabilities now?”  Cas’s voice is still quiet as he brushes his thumbs over Sam’s knuckles, patiently awaiting Sam’s response.

            Sam has tears in his eyes as he answers.  “I do Castiel, I do.  And I never thought of myself in an angelic light, not like this anyway.  Maybe when I was supposed to hold the devil inside me and that didn’t exactly turn me on to the prospect. But this?  Cas I don’t have words to describe what I feel.”

            Cas’s face conveys deep understanding as he gets on his knees and moves to sit in Sam’s lap.  “And truthfully there really aren’t words for it.  It simply…”

            “Is?,” Sam offers.

            “Exactly. “  Castiel’s hands move from where they’re clasped loosely behind Sam’s neck to his face, tilting his head up to face him.  “I’m still incredibly happy for you Sam.  In fact, I don’t think I’ll stop.”  Sam just smiles and kisses Cas, intending it to be chaste but clearly his husband has different ideas, tongue darting out of his mouth as soon as their lips touch and Sam opens up willingly, aware of the fact that they’re still naked and Sam’s still more than a little aroused from earlier.

            Sam gets the message, moving them so that he can ease Castiel to the floor underneath them, blanketing his body and taking his hands, pressed palm to palm and God it feels good to have Cas under him again, body just as warm and familiar as it has been for a while now, Cas’s legs spreading easily for the weight of Sam on top of him, tangling his calves with Sam’s.  Sam starts to ease his Grace back out, just enough to where Cas moans softly into his mouth as its warmth curls over his skin, positioning himself so that he’s as under Sam as he can be, needing to feel that presence as wholly as he can.

            “Missed this Cas, so, so much.”  Sam whispers the words softly against Castiel’s neck, lips moving in a slow trail down the tendon from his jaw to his chest, leaving a wake of warmth that makes Castiel positively thrum with desire.

            “Me too, Sam, me too.  Would you like to learn how to use your Grace on me as I have done in the past to you?”  Cas’s hands are on Sam’s hips now, gently rubbing circles with his thumbs as Sam considers his words.

            Sam nods, sealing his assent with a kiss.  “Teach me.”  Cas guides Sam’s hands down his body and pushes Sam back a little, making room between them.

            “I felt you pushing your Grace out a moment ago - it’s very easy to concentrate it through one part of your body.  Picture yourself channeling it through your fingers.”  Sam nods again, relaxing himself and pushing his Grace through down to his fingertips where they’re resting on Cas’s stomach.  Almost instantly Cas’s breath speeds up, the sensations touching his own angelic presence and it goes right through him, making his hips raise off the ground to try and rut against Sam. Sam experimentally moves his fingers up Cas’s torso, leaving faint red trails like he’s seen on his own body countless times before, closing his fingers up and moving them over Cas’s nipples.  This earns him a long, low groan deep from within Cas’s chest and all it does is spur Sam to see what else he can do with his newfound ability.

            “That feel good babe?” Sam asks as he gently tweaks Cas’s nipples, Cas’s eyes fluttering shut as his mouth opens in a moan of pleasure, pretty pink tongue and lips all there for Sam to eye hungrily.  Cas doesn’t give much else response aside from trying to pull Sam closer, his own Grace lighting up as Sam keeps touching him.  He stays there for a long moment, feeling Cas draw more to him like a planet towards its sun, those hardened buds sensitive to begin with, made even more so by the heavenly energy Sam’s teasing over them.  He can feel Cas’s cock standing straight out from his body, touching his belly where he’s still settled in between Cas’s legs, the head leaving a sticky trail of precome across his abs.

            “You’re already a natural at this Sam.”  The words come out shaky, scratchy, like Cas is trying to keep a hold of himself can’t quite manage it, his composure slipping with every drag of Sam’s skin against his body.  Sam leans down for a long kiss, skittering his fingers down Cas’s sides and down to underneath his thighs, leaving what feels like a wake of sparks behind them, Cas aware of just how close Sam is to those parts he so very badly wants him to touch.

            “Think so?”  Sam bites at Cas’s earlobe, licking up the shell to suck at the top of the cartilage, making Cas feel the same pull in his halo that Sam had earlier.  Cas starts to respond but Sam has a hand on his balls now, cradling and cupping them, the skin loose and giving there due to the warmth their radiating towards each other.  Cas moves his hands up Sam’s back, taking a moment to rub over his shoulders and in turn he gets exactly what he was looking for – he’s found where Sam’s wing roots should be.

            “I do Sam, but you forget that I’ve got several thousand millennia on you at knowing the angelic being.”  Cas’s Grace-charged fingers knead the firm muscle of Sam’s upper back as Sam gets his other hand around Cas’s cock, the Grace Sam’s so carefully manipulating over him making Cas’s concentration slip a degree as Sam strokes him long and slow, making his foreskin bunch at the tip and smear the precome he’s been steadily leaking over the smooth, pink head.  Sam does it a few more times, each even more lethargic than the last, making sure Castiel gets the full spectrum of feeling with every motion of his fingers.

            Cas doesn’t let that stop him, keeping one hand moving over Sam’s shoulders as he slides the other up over his neck and into the back of his hair, pulling a little harder than he had done in the kitchen, Sam’s whole body going taut and it’s the most fucking pleasing thing Cas has experienced since they started, Sam’s Grace pulsing hotly underneath his touch, Sam’s mouthing hanging open against his neck, breath hot and wet against Cas’s flesh.

            “Castiel I…”

            “Your wings, Sam.  I want you to see them.”  Cas rubs over his upper back a little harder, Sam’s teeth sunk into his neck.  He can feel the oil glands, swollen under his fingertips, touching them gently and Sam’s so, so sensitive to even those tiny palpitations, hips grinding down against Cas’s, his cock huge and hard and pulsing with every beat of his heart.

            It’s with a loud, mighty groan that Sam’s wings manifest, the air around them crackling as they slowly fold out, Sam’s Grace humming loudly and Cas keeps his eyes open in spite of the fact that Sam still has his hands on his cock and balls, his own body achingly responsive to Sam’s contact.  Sam’s wings finally finish appearing and what Castiel sees is _breathtaking._

“Sam… _look_.”  Sam lets go of Cas, carefully sitting back and opening his eyes, his body still adjusting to all of these new sensations and when he turns his head to either side he smiles so widely it outshines even his soul.  Sam’s wings are tawny gold, not dissimilar to the color of his Grace, huge and full, long, elegant feathers the touch the floor beneath him, flecked with black speckles like sunspots, Sam catching the occasional pulse and flash of Grace underneath the feathers.  Castiel has never seen more beautiful wings, and combined with Sam’s naked body he’s hard pressed to come up with something comparable, simply sitting back in awe as Sam reaches out to touch him.

            “They… I thought they would be…”  Sam’s not sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t this, falling speechless as the strong, soft feathers pass through his open fingers.

            “They are the most beautiful wings I’ve ever seen, Sam.  Not even Michael possessed such a magnificent pair.”  Castiel means it with all his heart, watching Sam’s face as he continues to touch himself. He wears an expression of complete and utter awe, no arrogance or pride anywhere on his face.  Even in the face of his own glory Sam remains humbled, looking down at Cas, propped up on his elbows, smiling up at him and feeling nothing but pride and joy for Sam.

            “I can’t believe it Cas, I just can’t.”  Sam gives them a tentative flew, watching the feathers ripple and dazzle even in the artificial light.

            “Believe it Sam, for it is Heaven’s privilege and gift to have bestowed them to you.”  Cas sits up, kissing Sam tenderly before asking “may I touch them?”

            “Of course you can, Cas.”  Sam puts his own hands on Cas’s shoulders as his husband’s fingers card through the feathers nearest his body, noting the long shiver of pleasure Sam gives when he does.  Cas is gentle with him, using his Grace to reach out to the very tips of Sam’s wings, pulsing with vibrance and strength like Castiel has never experienced before.  He applies that touch carefully and thoroughly, watching Sam’s face the whole time.

            “Can I do that to you?” Sam asks after what feels like hours of Castiel touching those intimate parts of his angelic body, voice quiet like he’s whispering a prayer in a cathedral.

            “Yes.”  Cas’s wings manifest faster than Sam’s, spreading out black and midnight blue behind him, dappled with little pinpoints of white that sparkle like constellations in the Kansas sky at night.  Sam pulls Cas up so that they’re back in the position they had started, seating Cas in his lap and placing his hands where Cas likes them best, right up under the roots, experience taking over as he softly threads his fingers a little ways out, Grace conducted along the bones and feathers of Cas’s wings like they are in Sam’s, both of them pulling in even closer on each other, mouths closing over each other in a kiss.

            They spend a long time feeling each other, wings curled in towards the other’s body, exploring through touch and heavenly sensation, hips slowly moving and rutting against each other until Sam feels like he’s going to snap.

            “Need to be inside you Cas, please.”  Sam’s not quite begging but all the same he feels like he is, that hard and desperate for it.

            Cas sucks on Sam’s bottom lip as he leans back and pulls Sam down with him.  “And I you Sam, need to feel the connection even stronger.”  That’s an accurate word for it, no longer or simply sex –they have a bond that runs far deeper than just the flesh now.  Sam starts to move down, lips leaving little imprints of Grace all along the way, warm breath ghosting over Cas’s cock, momentarily sucking each of his balls into his mouth before he raises up Cas’s hips and bends him partly in half.

            Cas thinks he’s prepared for the touch of Sam’s Grace-tinged tongue to his body but he isn’t, feeling like an electric shock passes through his body when Sam makes that first lazy circle over his hole, an arc of Grace jumping from Cas’s wings to Sam’s like two wires being crossed, making Sam growl into his body and it rattles Cas down to his bones, raising himself up more so that his legs are thrown over Sam’s shoulders, Sam going from gentle to hungry quick as a flash, more Grace arcing blue and white between them and outside there’s a distant clap of thunder, hearing it clearly even fifteen feet underground. 

            “You caused that” Cas manages to get out as Sam’s tongue licks in even deeper, Sam humming his acknowledgement as he tastes the soft inner flesh of Cas’s hole, clean and pure as the Grace that burns underneath him.  By the time Sam finishes Cas is a panting wreck, wings twitching with barely contained lust, Grace making the air around them hazy and thick with the smell of ozone.  Sam can feel the wing oil dripping freely down his back, knowing Cas’s skin is slick with it as well, coating his finger with it as he eases Castiel back down to the floor, sitting back and applying it liberally to Cas’s hole.

            Castiel by this point is so strung out on lust that he can barely think straight, between the feeling of his own slick being pushed into him and the fact that Sam’s wings are radiating heat like a furnace against him, his skin covered in Grace burns, Sam’s too, spots on each other’s bodies where it traced along their bones matching perfectly.  Sam starts with two fingers, using his Grace to prep Cas faster than normal, adding in a third finger after a long moment and it makes Cas even needier, reaching up to pull at Sam’s hair, making Sam bite Cas’s neck as he feels his halo being tugged at, removing his fingers and coating his own cock with wing oil from his back, hauling Castiel back up into his lap as soon as he’s finished and he’s careful enough so that he doesn’t hurt Cas as he lines himself up, Cas’s breath leaving him as he’s suddenly filled with Sam’s thick, thick cock.

            There’s a moment of supreme clarity as their bodies join together, Sam not stopping pushing in until Cas is fully seated, hands tight on each other’s bodies because it feels like they’re going to fly apart at any second.  Every light in the bunker dims for a moment before surging back to life, several breaking in place throughout its corridors, including two in the far corners of the gym.  Of course they don’t notice, molding their Grace so that don’t blow each other to pieces, making it slot together just as their bodies are now.  The only comparison Cas can make is two bright stars colliding, made of the same elements and yet so different in their nature, pulled in on each other as atoms and elements mash together to make a beautiful whole.

            Once they finally manage to come down from that first touch of raw Grace against each other Sam finds that they move perfectly together – his hips move up and down just right, a lot of nights of lap sex on the couch giving him the flow and rhythm he needs, Cas pushing back in equal measure, knowing the steps to this dance just as well as Sam, face buried in Sam’s shoulder as those long, talented fingers knead and squeeze his oil glands, Cas’s hands stroking and pulling with just the right amount of force at the feathers down where they fan out at Sam’s ribcage, adjusting himself so that Sam’s cock hits his prostate dead on every time he thrust his hips up to meet Cas.  They can feel each other’s Grace deep in the other’s body, pulsating and sustaining and surrounding, having finally found the meld and now they’re stuck fast.

            _I’d ask if this what heaven felt like but I’ve experienced that recently and I don’t remember it being this good._ In his head, Sam’s voice sounds lust wrecked but steady, Cas hearing it clear as day.

            _It’s even better than that Sam, trust me.  Do you feel how deep you are?_

_I do, Cas.  It’s… indescribable._ Sam means it too, with every fiber of his being.

            It’s a long stretch of slow, intimate, connective sex, wrapped and folded around each other’s bodies, climaxes building and building from deep within each other’s bodies, making starlight prick at the backs of their eyelids like distant supernovas, Grace licking across each other’s skin like holy fire, crackling hot and loud in each other’s ears, Sam gaining more and more understanding of the body angelic with each passing second and he knows now, understands what Cas has done unto him every time they’ve come together, giving it back tenfold to his husband and it’s freeing, to feel that same Grace turned and applied to make Castiel feel indescribable pleasure.

            They end up coming together, the distant thunder now a steady rumble in the sky outside, popping loudly as they scream into each other’s mouths, seeing their true forms through skin and it’s achingly beautiful, just a flash but their images are etched into each other’s conscience forever now, only something the two of them will ever know.  They hear Dean swearing distantly, undoubtedly dodging shattered glass – they’ll put it right in time, of course.  When Sam finally opens his eyes he sees the flickers of Grace between their wings as they fade out of existence, leaving nothing but charged atmosphere in their wake, Sam’s body sticky with eruption of Cas’s orgasm against him, coated in white streaks of come they go all the way up to his shoulder. 

            Cas is a boneless mass in his arms, covered in sweat and wing oil and burns from Sam’s Grace, panting against Sam’s neck.  Sam gently lifts him, feeling his cock slip out of his body along with a warm trickle of come, feeling it drip onto his leg as he lays down on his back, pulling Cas down on top of him.  Cas automatically goes to Sam’s shoulder to use as a pillow, wrapping his arms around Sam’s broad body as best he can.

            Sam finally breaks the peaceful silence, taking note of the fact that he’s definitely laying in a puddle of come where Cas wound up shooting over his shoulder.  “I think that takes the title of the best sex I’ve ever had.”

            Cas kisses Sam’s neck and nuzzles a burn he left right where his shoulder connects. “You know we can do this again as soon as you want.  As you know, one of the benefits of Grace is a very short refractory period.”  Cas’s hand wanders from where it’s around Sam’s middle down to his cock, still not fully deflated from a few minutes ago.  “And we have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”

            Sam groans as Castiel thumbs at his foreskin, given away by the fact that he starts to get hard again.  “Give me just a few minutes babe, I think we need to give Dean a reprieve from the place getting trashed due to… over excitement.” 

            “I could just suck you off this time…” Cas’s voice trails off as he moves from Sam’s side down to between his legs, crawling up from where Sam’s spread got them wide and licking up and over the shaft slowly, just enough to get Sam’s attention.

            Sam gets a hand in Cas’s hair and when he feels the halo tug down and touch his fingers, he knows his mind is already made up for him.

            Not that he minds, of course.

.  .  .

            Over the next couple of weeks Sam spends a lot of time within himself, exploring the knowledge that’s come with his heavenly gifts, Cas sometimes guiding him through it, sometimes leaving Sam to do so by himself.  Sam doesn’t feel like he’s changed all that much, not really.  If anything, being an angel enhances his personality and traits – compassion, understanding, and willingness to forgive.  Dean handles Sam’s newfound qualities quite well, secretly rejoicing for Sam and what he’s gained.  Sam learns that he can tune his Grace to feel as human as he did before hand, still able to experience taste, sight, smell, all of his senses as they were beforehand and considering that Dean’s been on trying every recipe he can think of during the time he’s not complaining in the least.

            Of course, there’s still hunting to be done.  Just because heaven and hell have been boarded up for good doesn’t mean that there’s a shortage of ghosts, ghouls, wendigos, and all manner of supernatural beasts to rid the world of.  They’re not far outside of Austin, Texas hunting a rougaru when Sam comes up with an idea, he and Cas taking a breather before going back out that night.

            “I’ve been thinking about something.”  Sam’s stripped to the waist, looking for a shirt that isn’t covered in dust and sweat.  Even though he is an angel now he can’t quite let go of such earthly things as changing his clothes, still wanting to feel as human as he can – and to keep the connection with Dean. 

            “And what would that be?”  Castiel is sitting on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s duffel, watching his husband change and letting his eyes drift up and down that beautifully muscled body.  Cas loves Sam for his heart and soul firstly of course but he can’t say he dislikes his physical appearance.  Not in the slightest.

            Sam pauses before pulling his t-shirt over his head.  “I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.  Right along here.”  Sam runs a hand down the right side of his body, starting at the top of his ribcage and finishing at his hip.  “Never could do it when I was human because it would have left me vulnerable too long to have it done.  Dad kind of drilled it into us to not leave ourselves exposed any longer than we had to – and laying on your side with needles going in and out of your skin definitely counts – and I guess the philosophy stuck but now… now I can.  A lot easier to get away if something goes wrong.”  Sam pulls the shirt over his head, Cas licking his lips at the way it perfectly hugs his broad shoulders, biceps filling out the short sleeves in such a way that it looks like he’s barely contained in the cotton shroud.  “What do you think, Cas?”

            Cas clears his throat before speaking, taking Sam’s left hand in his and rubbing his thumb over Sam’s wedding ring.  “I think that it’s your body to do as you please with, Sam.  I’ll support you whatever you choose to do, you know that.”  Cas gives him a quick kiss on the lips, hands settling on Sam’s hips and holding them there.

            Sam rubs noses with Cas and kisses his forehead.  “Have you ever thought about getting something like that?”

            “I’ve never had reason to.  But the idea is intriguing to me.”  Cas steps back and folds out his wings, offering for Sam to take his hand.  Sam hasn’t quiet mastered flying yet, in spite of his best efforts.

            “Tell you what – we’ll sit down and talk about it more once we finish this hunt.”  Sam smiles as he grabs a hold of Cas’s hand, closing his eyes as they’re zapped out to where Dean will be meeting them, mind buzzing with ideas.

            Their hunt is over that night, tracking their quarry made far easier by Sam and Cas’s combined angelic abilities, everyone walking away unscathed – and before ten p.m.  Dean decides a little post-hunt booze and hook up is the tonic for his adrenaline charged nerves, leaving Sam and Castiel at the hotel with a leery grin and a word to not wait up for him.  The moment he’s gone Sam goes and gets his laptop, settling down at the table with Cas hugging his neck and looking over his shoulder, intent on finding a tattoo parlor that looks legitimate and skilled enough to do his idea the justice he feels it deserves.  Austin of course has plenty of parlors in it, even out here in the suburbs but Sam’s not going to settle for less than good – and clean, for that matter.  After an hour of searching they find it, a studio in downtown Austin called The Body Shop. From the looks of it the place used to be an old auto garage, converted after it passed into other hands.

            “What do you think Sam?”  Cas asks from behind his left ear, kissing the back of it and nuzzling Sam’s head.

            “I think that’s our place.”  Sam turns and gives Cas a quick kiss on the lips, running his fingers through his hair once before standing.  “Do you want to know what I’m thinking about getting done?”

            “Of course.”

            Sam grins as he explains.  “Double barreled shotgun, modeled after the one I use.  Want the stock to start down here on my hip and the barrel to finish somewhere up here.”  Sam gestures to the space right below his armpit, watching Cas’s face as he tries to picture the tattoo.  Soon enough Cas’s eyes light up with a semblance of what it would look like inked onto Sam’s long torso, flexing and moving with his skin and Castiel has to stop himself from drooling, looking back up at Sam’s face and giving him a look tinged with more than a small hint of desire.

            “I think that’s going to look incredible.  Now I want to tell you _my_ design.”  Castiel stands back from Sam and untucks his shirt, pulling it up and showing off his left side, pretty hipbone and all.  “Two angel blades, crossed here in the middle.  After you Sam, they’ve been my most steadfast help.  And they happen to line up with what you’re choosing as well.”  Sam steps forward and traces his fingers along Cas’s skin, picturing them with his fingertips.  His cock twitches with interest as he watches Cas’s lats flutter under his careful touch, feeling Cas’s Grace start to reach out to touch his and he pulls away – they need to go now if they want to get these done before the shop closes.

            “We better move, Cas.”  It’s quiet and Cas can hear the arousal crackling in Sam’s voice but he agrees.

            “Since we’re not going far would you like to fly there yourself Sam?”  Cas’s wings fold out behind him and Sam fights the urge to reach out and touch them.

            Sam does the same, nodding as he holds himself poised.  “I think I can, yeah.  Ready?”  There’s a rush of wind and then they’re soaring through the air, faster than the human eye can touch but the Texas air is warm tonight, flowing underneath his wings and Sam takes a moment to soar high, Cas not far behind and it’s the most freeing thing, even if he is still a little wobbly in the air.  He executes a mostly graceful turn downwards, towards the sprawling cityscape and he gestures for the alley behind the tattoo parlor, Cas nodding and taking Sam’s hand in his as they land without mishap, Sam’s heart racing as he tucks his wings back into their customary realm of invisible existence, Cas doing the same.

            “You’re getting better at it, you know.”  Cas can’t help but take Sam’s face in his hands and kiss him, Sam putting his arms around Cas’s body and tugging him in close.

            “What can I say, I have a good flight instructor.”  Cas smiles against Sam’s lips and lets himself be tugged forward to the shop’s front door, fingers threaded together as Sam pushes the door open.  There’s only one other person waiting, an older man in a tank top who looks as though he’s taking a break from having a piece on his upper left arm done, the ink still fresh under his skin.  He barely even looks up at Sam and Cas, turning back to his phone.  Sam sees an artist come out from one of the booths, peeling off a pair of gloves and tossing them in a trashcan.

            “And what can I do for you gentleman tonight?”  He’s in his late twenties, early thirties maybe, covered in ink from the sleeves on his arms to the edges of it peeking out from under his collar.  He has a lovely smile, instantly putting Cas at ease.  He sticks out his hand in greeting.  “My name is Kyle.”

            Cas shakes first, Sam second.  “Well this is a tattoo parlor, so we’d like tattoos.  Um….” Cas manifests in his pocket a piece of paper with his design on it, handing it to Kyle, Sam doing the same.  They explain how they want them done, Kyle nodding in comprehension.  “I’ll get my sister, Heidi and we’ll get you both at the same time.  Sound good?”  They follow Kyle back into where the booths are, a woman coming out who Sam guesses correctly to be Heidi from a room in the back.  In contrast to her brother there’s not a bit of ink on her, at least not where Sam can see, the same easy smile on her face as her brother sports as they step into the largest booth at the back.

            “If you boys will take off your shirts we’ll be right with you.  I need to go and get more ink and send Mr. Henderson on his way.”  Heidi has a slow, twangy drawl to her voice that melts like warm honey on Sam’s ears.  He smiles at Heidi as she walks past him, a friendly brush of her hand against Sam’s forearm accompanying her motion.  Sam catches Cas looking at him, shirt half unbuttoned and the hint of a jealous spark in his gaze.  Sam shakes his head and takes off his t-shirt in the most seductive was possible, just for Cas, folding it neatly and dropping it to the floor.

            Kyle’s still there, putting on a fresh pair of gloves.  “You do know this is gonna hurt a little, right?  Ribcage is the most sensitive spot on the body.”  He looks back and forth between them before going to let down the two artist’s tables for them to lay on.

            Sam unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, still maintaining eye contact with Cas.  “Trust me, this’ll feel good compared to some of the stuff we’ve been through.”  He pulls his boxers down a little ways too, so that Kyle can start at his hip with the stock of the shotgun.  Cas gets an eyeful of Sam’s dark pubic hair and treasure trail before he lays on his side, pulling them up as best he can do preserve his modesty while still leaving his skin exposed.

            Heidi come back a moment later, noticing that Sam’s in position but Cas is still standing there looking like he’s not sure what to do next.  “Honey you gotta finish taking your shirt off instead of looking at your man like you want to eat him.  By the way, what are y’alls names?”  
            “I’m Cas.  And that’s my _husband_ , Sam.”  Cas finished taking his shirt off and lays down on the table across from Sam, left side bared as he pulls his arm up, positioned so that he can keep his eyes on Sam’s face.

            Heidi gives Cas’s side a pat before moving to get the outline of his design.  “And don’t you worry about a thing honey, he’s in good hands.  Now you two try not to make eyes at each other too hard and let us work.”  She doesn’t leave any room for argument, pulling on her gloves, Kyle doing the same across the booth over Sam.  She turns on a radio in the corner, Amy Winehouse’s smoky smooth voice drifting from the speakers, quickly tuned out by the Grace Cas puts up so that he doesn’t feel the needles that will soon be pricking at his skin.

            Sam notices the way Cas’s face stills and follows him into their private shroud, exhaling long and thorough before he does.  He’s wrapped in his own warmth, feeling the very edges of Cas’s Grace against his and they’re facing each other on the tables but there’s nothing else there save for them.

            _You know I wouldn’t actually do anything with her, right?  I saw that look you gave me when she touched my arm._

_I’m not so petty as to be jealous of a woman touching you, Sam.  But there’s a certain courtesy to be maintained…_ Cas does his best to not sound offended, really he does but it mostly ends up just sounding pouty.

            Sam smiles at him, reaching out to touch his husband’s face with a warm tendril of angelic energy.  _You’re adorable when you’re upset._

_I’m not upset!_

_Yes you are._

_Fine.  A little._

_Cas, c’mon.  I’ve never once seen you be jealous of anything, especially me.  Why now?  
            Because she gets to see in plain sight what… what rightfully…_

_Rightfully what?_

Cas averts his eyes from Sam’s gaze.  _Rightfully is mine.  You’re mine Sam, no one else’s._

Expecting Sam to simply shrug off his jealousy he instead gets a sly smile and a look that says he’s going to play this to the hilt.  _Rightfully yours, huh?  Tell me Cas, what exactly belongs to you._ That same finger of Grace starts to drift lower from Cas’s cheek downwards, tracing around his neck and collarbone, barely ghosting over his nipples before coming back up.  It almost makes Cas shiver but there are needles digging into his skin now, barely registering through his Grace but all the same he doesn’t want to throw Heidi off.

            Rising to Sam’s bait, he hoods his eyes and drops his voice low, lower than normal to the pitch that makes Sam turn to putty in his hands.  _To start Sam, your lips.  So pretty and pink, always soft, plaint.  The lips that stretch so prettily around my cock, get all wet when I fuck your face.  Those are definitely mine.  Especially when they feel so good against mine._

Sam resists the urge to reach down and rub himself, feeling his cock start to chub up.  _You’re evil and you know it.  Keep going._

Castiel gives him the most wicked smile he can manage.  _Your hands, Sam.  I love how they hold me down when you fuck me, how well they know where to tease and touch._ Sam feels Grace curl warmly around his back and bloom over his shoulders, teasing at the spots where his wings start.  _Like here – you know my wings so well, every little place that makes me beg for more._ Sam suppresses a whimper as he feels invisible fingers squeeze his oil glands, just long enough for a line of heat to shoot straight down to his cock and make him bite back a whimper.  Cas smiles, pleased with his own machinations.

            _I can’t pop a boner right now, Cas._

_Heidi would like that, I think._

_Shut up._ Sam comes out of his mind for just a moment to look over at Cas, watching the progress being done.  The outline is completely done, Heidi having started in on the coloring, a shiny silver-white that makes Cas’s tattoo look all the more realistic.  _Your piece is looking good babe._

_As is yours.  He’s finished coloring the stock and has moved on to the barrel.  It’s going to look incredible on you as you ride me._ Cas licks his lips and yeah, Sam really loves the thought of that, flexing and showing off for Cas as he fucks himself on his husband’s thick cock. 

            _Hopefully we can do that sooner rather than later.  After all, my body is yours and yours alone._

_And I’m eternally grateful for it, touchy tattoo artists aside. I know you’re mine Sam, I just like to hear it every once in a while._

_That’s perfectly alright, Cas, really.  I’ve been a serial monogamist all my life and now that we’re most likely eternal well, the thought just gets better, doesn’t it?  
            _ Castiel nods, gently stroking Sam’s face with his Grace before wrapping it around his fingers as though they were holding hands.  _Infinitely so._

It takes upwards of three hours for their tattoos to be finished but they barely notice, deep in each other’s minds and presence to register it, only sitting up and taking notice when they no longer feel the niggling press of tattoo needles to their skin.  Sam comes out of his trance first, looking down at his side and smiling big.

            “Kyle, this is gorgeous.”  Sam hops down off the table, pulling his pants up so that they don’t fall down and admiring himself in the mirror, fingers palpitating the raised skin, Cas joining him a moment later, curling a wing around Sam’s body as they look at each other’s bodies.  He can feel the excitement and arousal radiating from his angel and he ends up paying Kyle and Heidi more than double the rate Kyle had quoted them beforehand.

            They zap back to the motel as soon as they’re out of sight of anyone who might be watching, the moment their feet touch the ground Sam’s got Castiel up against the wall, fingers tearing at the buttons of his shirt.  Cas goes for Sam’s belt immediately, sliding it out of its loops and casting it aside, trying to tug his jeans off without unbuttoning them.  Sam shoves his hands away and does it himself, Cas choosing that moment to lift Sam’s shirt up and it’s a mostly coordinated dance as they finish stripping, Grace quickly applied to each other’s sides to heal the tattoos and just as quick Cas has his legs wrapped around Sam’s waist, Sam walking them to the bed.

            Sam puts Cas on his side and bends his arm upwards, halfway straddling his legs and licking up one edge of his tattoo, tongue tracing up from the point of the blade to the hilt, Grace pushing ahead of him so as to raise goosebumps in Cas’s skin.  Cas groans, hauling Sam forward for a kiss and it’s wet and messy and biting, raking his fingers down Sam’s back and quick as a flash his wings are out, bending and rippling with the movements of Sam’s body.  Cas stroked the feathers closest to Sam’s tattoo hard, feeling Sam rut against him, cock already swollen and leaking.  Cas takes his other hand and cards Grace through Sam’s body, drawing the deepest possible arousal out of him, working him even more and Sam shivers, taking that Sam hand and pinning his arm, head dipping again to kiss and lick at the ink on Cas’s body.

            Cas manages to get his other hand out from where it has become trapped under him and get a hold of Sam’s hair, giving it a sharp tug, feeling the warmth of Sam’s halo on his fingers, making Sam growl and bite his side.  It makes Cas’s entire being jump, bringing out his own wings, tangling with Cas’s, feeling each other’s Grace collide in such a jarring manner that it momentarily overwhelms them, the light overhead flickering brightly once before popping and exploding, raining glass all over the room.

            It’s dark now, so Cas pushes out his Grace to illuminate his wings, a warm blueish shade that enables him to see Sam and nothing but.  “We really need to be more careful of that,” Cas manages to get out between pants.

            “Think it’s kind of hot.”  Sam moves up from Cas’s side to his mouth again, giving him another hard kiss that leaves Cas panting for breath.  This isn’t working like Cas wants it too because he wants to feel Sam’s skin just as badly, shoving Sam off of him so that they’re lying on their sides, hands around each other’s dicks and finally they have a system worked out, wings curling down and forward to run feathers teasingly over each other’s bodies, fingers of Grace touching every inch of skin possible, saying each other’s names in as many different languages as they can.

            Sam sneaks a hand down and around Cas’s shoulder, fingers sliding through his feathers to find Cas’s oil gland.  He presses down hard on the spongy organ, fingers getting coated in shiny, Grace-tinged slick, bringing it back to Cas’s cock and slicking him up along with precome, Cas’s hand faltering on Sam as he rubs it in, pulling and twisting his hand in that just right way Cas loves.

            “Fucking love hearing your voice when I do this.”  Sam discovered this particular kink some time ago when they didn’t have any lube one night, using Cas’s own body to provide it for them.

            “Feels… God, _Sam_ … amazing.” 

            “Do it to me, babe.  Wanna know what it feels like.”  Sam sucks on Cas’s bottom lip for a moment before Cas can get his arm behind Sam and do so.  Sam’s oil glands are huge, bigger than Cas has ever seen on an angel and he drips so fucking much when he’s aroused, Cas able to get his fingers wet easily before he coats Sam’s cock with it, kissing him as he jacks him off slowly, Sam imitating him so that he doesn’t come beforehand – they’ve known each other’s bodies long enough now that he knows all of Cas’s tells when he’s about to blow and he wants this to be a together thing, angling Cas’s cock upwards, pointed more at his ribs than stomach.

            “Want you to break it in for me Cas, can you do that?”  The words are warm against Cas’s mouth, feeling Sam’s Grace behind them and it makes him shudder.

            “So long as you do the same for me.”  Sam seals his promise with a kiss, sucking on Cas’s tongue and rippling his Grace through Cas’s wings, making them glow even a little brighter and it’s beautiful, really bring out the tiny flecks of white in the feathers and Sam can’t help but think that they look like stars.

            It’s not long before Sam feels the pull of orgasm low in his body, trying to fuck Cas’s hand and Cas gets the idea, stroking Sam faster and faster and Cas is right there with him, feeling like he’s flying and they’re linked together, the air around them crackling with energy, Grace flaring with each movement of their bodies and there’s a hot rush of air between them and they come together, come spattering all over their sides and dripping down their bodies, running along the slightly raised edges of their body art, both reaching for the sticky messes they’ve made with their fingers and scooping it up, licking each other’s fingers clean and Cas rolls on top of Sam, kissing him so that he can run his tongue through their combined tastes, Sam’s hands stroking out into his wings and they’re oversensitive now, making him shiver hard, caressing Sam’s side the whole length of the barrel, all the way down to the stock and back up again, soothing Sam until he’s looking up at him with a lazy, sated smile.

            “Think we broke ‘em in Cas.”  Sam nuzzles his nose against his husband’s, Cas moving off of him and laying so that he’s wrapped in one of Sam’s wings, head pillowed on Sam’s shoulder.  He folds one wing over Sam’s body, humming contentedly as Sam gently runs his fingers through the long feathers closest to him.

            “We may need to do it again soon, just to be sure.”  Cas closes his eyes, feeling Sam trace constellations between the white flecks in his blue-black down.

            “You’re a sex fiend.”  Sam’s not being accusatory, simply matter of fact.

            “It’s entirely your fault.”  Cas isn’t lying even a tiny bit because most every erection of dirty thought he has is courtesy of his husband.

            Sam chuckles once before pulling Cas in close enough to bury his nose in his hair.  “I’ll take the blame gladly.”

            They stay nestled in each other’s Grace and arms until the sun’s creeping across the bed, making Sam’s wings glow like molten gold.

.  .  .

            Achieving angel status hasn’t reduced Sam’s workout regimen in the slightest.  If anything, he finds that he works out more, not only to maintain his human body but his angelic as well – as it turns out, his Grace grows stronger with exercise, honing himself even more, after every workout feeling his Grace more sharply than beforehand.  Castiel joins him every time, if not just for the same purpose but to watch his husband’s gorgeous body flex and bend as he stretches, runs, lifts weights, and all other manners of pushing his body to the limit.

            It’s hot in the bunker’s gym, having passed from fall to winter to a very warm spring and the air conditioning that works beautifully everywhere else in the bunker simply doesn’t down here, the air more than a little stagnant and Sam’s sweating mightily, doing pull ups while Cas works on his lats, the machine positioned across the room from the bars Sam’s working on.  Castiel’s got a beautiful view of Sam’s back, the muscles absolutely popping with every time Sam lifts his body from where he dangles a couple inches above the floor.  He’s lost count of the reps Sam’s done but it’s well over four hundred now, each one having made Cas’s concentration on his own workout that much more, combined with the fact that Sam’s shirtless and wearing a pair of gym shorts that at this point are so soaked with moisture that they may as well be see through, hugging the curve of Sam’s ass and legs in such a way that it’s even more tantalizing than if Sam were naked. 

            Sam can feel Cas’s eyes on him just as plainly as though he were right in front of him and he smirks to himself, extending his body down its whole length before lifting himself up so that there’s an entire foot of space between the soles of his bare feet and the floor, holding it until his body starts to shake and even then he takes his time going back down, arms stretched high above his head and turning his body so that Cas can see his tattoo stretch out along his muscled side.  Perhaps it’s his imagination or maybe Cas actually does it but he feels a tendril of Grace reach out and move down his body, curling around from his pumped up chest and over his side, warm touches that make his sweat-coated skin prickle in the most delightful way possible. Of course, he doesn’t give himself away (not obviously anyway) and he lifts himself again, shaking his body a little so his gym shorts ride a little lower on his hips and he feels the upper part of his ass against the air around him, hearing Cas swear across the room.  Sam’s feeling more than a little pleased with himself, between the workout and the fact he’s turning his husband on without really even doing much of anything.

            Cas is enjoying the show, having given up on working his side and now he’s laying down on the floor, doing sit ups so that he can watch Sam better, not far into them when Sam just has to go and throw him off – he folds his wings out, looking enormous from the heightened state of his Grace, taking Cas completely by surprise because he’s never seen them looking so majestic.  By this point Sam’s no longer doing pull ups for his benefit, instead stretching each and every one out so that Cas’s hungry gaze is drawn up and down with the movement of his body, miles and miles of tanned skin and those fucking wings that go on forever, looking very much in place amidst Sam’s sharply accentuated trapezius and deltoid muscles, veins popping up everywhere and Cas can _hear_ the life and vitality flowing through them.

            Sam jumps down off of the bars he’s hanging from and stretches his arms out wide, wings folding out like he’s about to take off and that’s when Cas figures out his husband is fucking _peacocking_ , spinning on his heel and grinning like he’s got the world on a string.  Cas sits up, licking his lips at Sam’s abs, standing out so that each ridge is completely defined, Sam not even having to flex to make them pop.  Cas keeps his gaze focused there for a moment, eyes wandering lower, following Sam’s treasure trail down to where the dark curls of his pubes are just peeking out, suddenly having the urge to bury his nose in them and inhale deeply.  His eyes move down even further to the thick, long hang of Sam’s cock, standing out so that Cas can even make out the ridge of where Sam’s foreskin ends and the tip of his glans sticks out, sweat making the silky material of his gym shorts cling so that it’s painfully obvious Sam’s not wearing any underwear and it only serves to make Cas drool even more.

            “My face is up here, Cas.”  Cas reluctantly tilts his head up, following along the trail of sweat that’s running smack down the middle of Sam’s torso, stopping for a moment at his chest to look at the hair that’s matted with moisture to either side of his sternum, the nipple piercings that Cas also has that they got together after a hunt back in February, Sam’s nipples hard from exertion and quickly mounting arousal, finally up to Sam’s eyes and he looks drop dead gorgeous, hair a sweaty mess where it’s half tucked behind his ears, face and lips flushed bright pink from the near two hours they’ve been down here, eyes a blazing hazel-gold that makes Cas’s heart stop.

            “I…”  Castiel isn’t entirely sure what to say next, sitting there looking agape at Sam’s body and wings, too much for his brain to process well at the moment.  Sam extends his hand out to haul Cas off the ground, not letting go when Cas is to his feet, standing there looking like he’s going to make a meal out his husband.

            “Yes?”  Sam waits for Cas to finish whatever it was he was about to say, grinning and feeling proud of the fact he’s gotten his normally ready with a repartee angel so flustered and dare he say, horny.

            The look on Sam’s face snaps something in Cas’s mind and suddenly he finds himself filled with a purpose.  “You think you can just get away with strutting around and showing off like that?  You’re on very, very dangerous ground right now…” Cas gets right up in Sam’s face and the next word is more felt than heard “ _boy_.”

            Sam shivers from head to toe and the tug of lust that was just simmering low in his gut suddenly shoots up into high flames, feeling his cock fill with blood and Cas gives not a single indicator he feels it against him.  “And what, _Castiel_ , are you going to do about it?”  Sam’s voice is a low growl just the same as Cas’s now, watching Cas’s wings pop up at the peripherals of his vision.

            Cas decides that words aren’t going to do much good at the moment, figuring Sam needs to be shown rather than told.  Quicker than the blink of an eye Sam finds himself being shoved backwards to the cinder block wall behind him, Grace connecting with Cas’s in a arousingly jarring way when he feels himself pinned, Cas’s left  arm extended upwards and keeping Sam’s wrists together above his head, wedding ring digging hard into his skin and suddenly Sam’s painfully reminded of just how powerful his husband is.

            “You’ll have to wait and find out, won’t you _Sam_?”  Cas takes a moment to look at his prize, Sam all long muscle and skin just waiting to be bent and molded by Cas’s touch.  With a smile that could only be called wicked Cas licks up from the bottom of Sam’s sternum to his mouth, catching the salt of sweat and raw masculinity on his tongue that Sam exudes so easily and pushing it past Sam’s parted lips, his other hand skimming up Sam’s thigh to his cock, squeezing it roughly and dragging his palm up its length, the friction from Sam’s gym shorts making Sam writhe and try to rub himself against Cas.  Cas is having none of it, pushing his Grace out more to hold Sam still because this is his game, noticing how Sam tries to curl his wings forward to touch him but they barely move, Sam’s arousal and frustration kicking up that much more.

            “You’re a mean bastard some days, you know that?”  Sam manages between biting kisses and Cas roughly rubbing his dick.

            “You do it to yourself and now you’ll have to face the consequences.”  Cas injects some of that wrathful tone into his voice from where he and Sam first came to know each other, tugging hard at Sam’s balls through his shorts and finding himself quite pleased by the long, low whine Sam lets out.  Cas moves from biting and mouthing at Sam’s sweat covered jaw, arms still restrained above his head (no easy task considering Sam’s half a foot taller than him) down to his chest, sinking his teeth into the flesh right in the middle of Sam’s anti-possession tattoo, licking at the dark ink and leaving a red mark that stands out from the pentagram in its center.  He feels Sam try to buck again, chuckling deep in his chest to himself as he plants a line of wet kisses down to Sam’s left nipple.

            Sam has his circular barbells in today, metallic black and they’re drop dead sexy on him, different from the silver bars in Cas’s nipples, and Cas just has to get himself a taste, tracing his tongue teasingly around the circumference, feeling Sam’s Grace flare up hard against his own, like standing in front of a fire that’s suddenly had more accelerant poured on it – precisely the reaction Castiel wants.

            Cas’s tongue is hot, too hot, feeling like a brand that’s been left too long in the fire against his skin and it makes Sam’s brain go fuzzy with want, any words he might have had to spare dying on his tongue as Cas finally closes his lips over that fleshy little peak, sucking on it gently before pulling back and blowing Grace cooled air over it, colder than ice and Sam nearly comes from just that, toes curling against the floor in response.  Cas, pleased with Sam’s response, leans forward again and gently sinks his teeth into that spot, pulling forward on it the same moment he shoves down the waistband of Sam’s gym shorts and gets his cock out, finally getting a much better grip on it and stroking him so that his foreskin pulls all the way back before bringing his grip forward again, feeling the precome smear and slick up his palm.  Sam’s always copious with it, enough to leave Cas’s hand and fingers slippery.

            “Look at you, so fucking wet and desperate for me.”  The words vibrate against Sam’s chest, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.  He feels the wing oil dripping freely down his spine, making it hard for him to stay put against the wall he’s still very much held down against.

            “Shut the fuck up and do something about it then.”  Sam growls, loudly, making Cas give a shiver of his own and he resumes biting and sucking at Sam’s nipple, jerking him off at the same time, feeling Sam’s cock thicken further and he’s already close, the sensory overload too much for his body to handle.  Cas slows down for a moment, pulling Sam’s foreskin as far forward as it will go, dipping his finger in and pressing the pad of his index finger right to his frenulum, rubbing and teasing at it with his Grace and Sam’s body arches as much as it can, his mouth open in a silent scream before he erupts all over Cas’s right hand and fingers, soaking them with jizz and Cas sucks hard on his nipple the whole time, drawing every single drop out of Sam that he can. 

            As Sam’s orgasm finally expends itself he wants to collapse to the floor to recover, only Cas isn’t having any of it.  “I’m not through with you yet.”  Cas’s eyes are wild with lust, burning and coursing through his veins and Sam wills his knees to stop wobbling, fighting the urge to gulp because he’ll admit, he’s a little scared right now but the display of raw power is its own aphrodisiac, making his cock (which hasn’t softened in the least) remain hard, Cas finally letting go of it – he licks his hand clean, slowly, holding Sam’s come in his mouth, keeping eye contact the whole time and watching Sam’s face, expression searching and trying to figure out what Cas is going to do to him next, Cas’s eyes promising nothing but more… well Sam places it as more pleasure but it’s going to be taken from him and not given.

            He gets harder at the mere prospect.

            Cas relinquishes his hold on Sam’s arms, only to grab him from the backs of his thighs and lift him up, Sam’s legs going around his waist automatically – it’s not the first time he’s been in this position and he knows Castiel isn’t going to drop him, not with the strength of his Grace backing him up.  Cas carries him over to the bars that Sam was doing pull ups on earlier, Sam wrapping his arms around Cas’s shoulders, Cas keeping his wings bent out of reach of Sam’s fingers.  Sam’s are still out and full behind him, Cas almost able to taste his wing oil on his tongue, cloyingly pure amidst the rapidly filling with ozone air.  It’s just another tell that he has Sam right where he wants him, standing on the precipice of full, unabated pleasure.

            Cas, of course, is more than willing to push him right over the edge.

            Cas gestures upwards with his chin towards the bars, Sam releasing his hold on Cas’s body and immediately grabbing for them, arms once against stretched over him, save for this time he’s facing Cas instead of away from him.  Cas drops to his knees, leaving Sam hanging, thighs gripped tight by Cas’s fingers.  He can feel the Grace burning into his flesh, hotter than starlight and growing warmer as Cas folds Sam nearly in half, spreading his legs apart, Sam held up by nothing but his own arms and Cas’s hands – it’s thrilling and it makes his blood rush and his Grace hum loudly, a beautiful cacophony in his ears that he doesn’t ever want to lose memory of.  However, Cas’s tongue cuts through the noise as Sam realizes his own come is being pushed back into him, the mix of jizz and saliva running out and down Cas’s chin, Grace used to open Sam along with his tongue so that he feels it inside, slick and hot and filthy.

            Cas is surprised he’s not come of his own accord yet, between holding Sam’s release in his mouth for so long and now tasting him up close like this, Sam smelling sweaty and Grace charged, tasting dark and salty and yet there’s still a streak of pureness even here, Cas moaning hungrily as he eats Sam out like his eternal life depends on it, feeling his husband loosen up a little more with each passing second, Sam’s balls hot and heavy against his forehead where he’s pressed in so close.  Sam, for his part, is mostly just moaning and trying to hold himself, the connection of their Grace so strong and mashed together right now as to make his grip falter with each pass of Cas’s tongue over his hole. 

            _“Castiel…”_ Sam’s tone says most everything he wants in those three little syllables, feeling like he’s about to burn and disappear into nothingness, Cas’s presence overwhelming him so that his brain can’t process anything further than the incredibly lovely ache currently running rampant through his body.

            Cas figures that’s a sign it’s time to move on, giving Sam’s tongue one more long pass before he gets up, keeping a firm hold on Sam’s thighs.  He leans forward, capturing Sam’s mouth in a filthy hot kiss, Sam giving a long, broken “mmmph” as he tastes his own body, sucking Cas’s tongue clean until there’s not a trace of it left there.  It makes him all the more desperate and he knows he’s open enough to take Cas’s cock now, trying to convey that with his thoughts but Cas is currently closed to his telepathic efforts, instead letting Sam suffer for a moment longer.

            Cas reaches behind himself, coating his fingers with wing oil, keeping Sam’s leg hitched around his waist as he wets his cock, his eyes dark midnight blue as he keeps his gaze locked steady with Sam’s.

            “I’m surprised you’ve let me have my way with you this long.”  Cas’s voice is mostly steady but he’s betrayed by the crack of insanely heightened arousal.

            Sam laughs, deliberately flexing his already finely cut body to try and throw Cas off.  “Feels too damn good to let you stop.  I like someone who can give just as good as they get – partly why I married you.” 

            “Then I’ll just have to give my best, won’t I?”  Sam’s not sure how Cas manages it but on “I” he thrusts inside Sam’s ass, taking his leg from around his waist and cradling it in his arms, Sam’s knees hooked with Cas’s elbows, calves still wrapped around Cas’s lower body. From this angle (and the fact that Sam’s never been hornier in his life) Castiel feels positively enormous, the slight upward curve of his thick cock nailing him right in the prostate, Grace clashing with his like two galaxies whose orbit has finally crossed, loud and searingly beautiful, the precome that had been leaking onto Sam’s stomach from his dick now a steady flow, each pulse of his heart making it jump to where its visible with each loud thud.

            Cas starts slow, Sam’s body long enough to where he can lean in and suck on his bottom lip and still maintain the right angle to drive Sam absolutely wild, deep, connecting thrusts that make each other’s wings twitch on every pull back of Cas’s hips, the anticipation sharpening Sam’s desire to where it physically hurts, only for it be assuaged a moment later by Cas slamming them together, over and over again, each thrust faster than the last until the feathers of Sam’s wings shake with every smack of their skin – it’s a sight to behold and between the Grace making Sam’s wings flare with light every time Cas hits his sweet spot and the fact that every vein in Sam’s upper body is standing out prettily Cas is at a loss for words to describe what he’s seeing.

            Sam can’t jack himself off and Cas is too busy keeping him suspended to help but it’s no problem because Sam comes untouched anyway, the first shot taking him completely by surprise, landing right in Sam’s open mouth, the rest spraying all over his chest and shoulders, running back down his body over his abs and the cut of his hipbones, (come gutters as Dean’s more than lewdly once referred to them as) and the sight and smell of it makes Cas come too, driving himself fucking deep in with every twinge and pull of his own climax, the lights overhead flaring bright for a long moment before every single one on this level of the bunker shatters, their Grace making the air whoosh around them and the musty smell of the gym is gone, replaced by pure oxygen for the briefest of moments before the air starts to circulate as intended again.

            Cas’s knees are about to give out and he gets he and Sam down the floor as smoothly as he can, still connected with him, their energy sapped and for a long while Cas stays bent over Sam’s body, catching his breath and keeping his eyes closed as he collects himself.  When he opens them again Sam’s breathing has slowed along with his, the come half dry on his skin.  Cas pulls his softened cock from Sam’s ass, making Sam wince for a moment.

            “That…”  It’s all Cas can get out, realizing he’s screamed himself hoarse with his orgasm.

            “Was incredible.”  Sam finishes for him, reaching his hands out to pull Cas down on top of him, looking up at his angel with a look of utmost satisfaction and contentment.

            Cas returns Sam’s lazy grin, kissing his chin and nose before his cheeks.  “We should probably clean up our mess before Dean gets hurt stumbling around in the dark down here.

            Sam laughs, Cas’s face bathed in the warm light from his wings.  “Yeah.  But can we stay here for just a minute or two before we do anything else?”

            “Of course.”  Cas gives Sam another kiss before moving to tuck himself up against his side and trace protective sigils across his chest, resisting the urge to lick the come off of Sam’s shoulder and kiss it back to him.

            He ends up doing precisely that anyway and it’s a long time before the lights end up being turned back on.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam’s first molt comes almost a year to the day after he first receives his Grace.

            He and Castiel are with Dean on a hunt in Colorado, tracking what locals suspect is a yeti of some sort.  They’re in Colorado, an hour west of Boulder, high up in the Rocky Mountains.  After doing more research and more than a little hiking and rock climbing, they find their quarry – it was merely an extremely large bear, and they give it a quick, painless death, the beast too old and mind too far gone to realize the trouble it was causing.  They’re in a diner eating a post hunt burger when Sam feels something out of place, reaching behind himself and scratching his back with a rather panicked look on his face, fingers scrabbling under his shirt right between his shoulder blades.  It isn’t the tattoo of “Family Don’t End In Blood” in Latin across he got across his shoulders a couple months ago, healed the day he got it so he’s more than a little concerned.  They also haven’t been in Colorado long enough for the high mountain air to dry his skin out, not that that’s ever been a problem before anyway.

            When he pulls a feather out from under his shirt, he’s not only relieved but mightily confused.

            Dean looks at it, saying around a piece of pie “what, are you molting or something?”

            Cas plucks the tawny feather from where Sam’s holding it up between two fingers.  “Actually you’re correct, Dean.  I was wondering when Sam would have his first.”

            Sam resumes scratching his back, face bearing his discomfort.  “Yeah, and it itches like hell.  How come it appeared even though I don’t have my wings out?”

            Cas adds his fingers to the mix, reaching up under Sam’s shirt to the parts he can’t reach.  “Molting is different for every angel.  Your Grace is so strong and prominent that your old feathers fall from between dimensions.  I think we should get you to a more private place so that I can groom you.”

            Dean rolls his eyes from across the table at the thought it puts in his mind.  “I’ll catch up with you two lovebirds later then.”

            Cas nods, standing so that he and Sam can take off outside.  “We aren’t going anywhere save for the motel.”  A moment later they’re standing in the room, Sam not even noticing that Cas had carried him the whole way due to the fact he’s scratching himself still.  Cas steps in front of him, unbuttoning Sam’s shirt and giving him a quick kiss.

            “Mine’s starting now too, actually.  I think it’s from where our Grace has come in contact with each other’s so many times that our molting periods have synced up.”

            “Kind of odd if you think about it.”  Sam gives a sigh of relief as he shrugs his shirt off, folding his wings out behind him and shaking them.  Already several dead feathers fall out and hit the floor, new ones in their place where Cas can see between the folds of tawny gold.

            “Not really.  Every time our Grace touches we leave small traces of each other within the other’s presence.  It’s not harmful, simply meaning we’re together.  And it’s my time to molt anyway so it just happened to bring about your own.”  Cas guides Sam over the bed, a big, king sized affair that has done an extremely good job at fighting off the autumn chill the three nights they’ve been in Colorado.  Cas strips off his own shirt and coat, sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed and patting the space in front of him.

            “See now that sounds better than we make each other shed feathers.”  Sam sit down, their knees touching each other’s legs, Sam giving Cas a longer kiss this time and reaching for his wings.  Cas hums softly when he feels Sam’s fingers settle in the soft ones nearest his sides, Grace being pushed through them so that Cas snuggles a little closer to the warmth. 

            “That feels so, so good Sam.  Every time you do it.”  The words are said right against Sam’s mouth, felt more than heard.

            “I know it does, that’s why I do it.”  Sam smiles and kisses Cas’s forehead before he speaks again. “How exactly does this grooming thing work?”   

            “Like this.” Cas guides Sam’s hands up to the tops of his wings, right above where his shoulders start.  “Use your Grace like it’s an extension of each finger, and then slowly comb downwards.  You’ll be able to feel the old feathers coming out as you move.”

            Sam focuses his Grace down so that it’s more concentrated, tongue held between his lips in concentration as he follows Cas’s instructions.  Sure enough as he does it he sees several faded black-blue feathers fall out onto the mattress, new feathers gleaming from where the old ones used to be.

            “See?”  Cas moves to do the same to Sam, Grace separating the feathers and they start to come out, plucked from their roots with ease and when the first ones come out Sam shivers, going still as Cas’s careful touch runs over him.

            “That feels really, really awesome Cas.” 

            “The first time always does.  Let me know if it gets to be too much and I’ll give you a break, alright?”  He gives Sam a kiss before he resumes work, Sam doing the same on Cas and soon they find a routine so that they can groom each other at the same time, moving from one wing to the next, each touch making Sam’s Grace reach out to brush with Cas’s, drawing him more and more towards arousal and Sam loses concentration every now and then because he feels it in his cock, that tug that pulls from so deep inside him he can’t help but pay attention to it, weaving in and out of the very cells that make up his body.  He’s sure Castiel is aware of the fact he’s turned on but he gives no indication of it, sitting at the farther edge of Sam’s left wing and quietly plucking out the old feathers, each a little tawny snowstorm as it falls from his body and onto the floor.  Sam tears himself away from the pull of lust in his belly and looks down at the mess they’ve made, noticing how even though they’ve been discarded from their bodies their feathers still complement each other.  He also notices that Cas’s feathers go from deep black at the tips to dark purple towards their roots, all manner of shades in between them.  He looks up at the feathers he has in between his fingers, the new ones that have taken their place, seeing if he can spot the difference.

            “I never noticed that your wings had so many different shades in them.”  Sam says it quietly, stroking the soft down before him, watching it catch in the light.

            “Their truest colors only show in molting.  I can say the same for yours. of course.”  Cas turns to look at Sam, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his mouth.  “I’m almost done, by the way.”

            Sam swallows and shifts his weight a little because he’s still very much hard and he’s also positive that Cas is intensely aware of his arousal by now, given then way he’s slowed in touching his wings – it’s moved from simply grooming to deep, intimate brushes along the leading edge, fingers tightening and loosening as they touch him and Sam’s hands falter they hold Cas’s wing, closing his eyes and breathing in deep because Cas is definitely using his Grace now, pushing the warmth and sensation deep through Sam’s being.  It’s intimate, intensely and quietly so, a certain solemnity about it because literally no one else is capable of having or sharing this kind of relationship with Sam.  He feels his body come alive, each cell set alight from the way Cas’s Grace moves through him like a stream turning into a river, gathering in strength and power as it runs through his being.

            “Sam….”  Cas’s voice is breathless and Sam can feel it, Cas’s own burning desire like the sun opening up every pore in his body.

            “Yeah?”  Sam’s entire body is taut, feeling Cas’s Grace meld to his and there’s not a thing they can do to stop it now.

            “Would you like to have sex right now?”  Cas’s bluntness is its own aphrodisiac, right to the point as always.

            “Yes.”  Sam practically dumps himself in Cas’s lap, straddling his thighs and when they kiss they feel each other’s energies leap and connect like lighting across a storm, ozone crackling in the air around them.  Cas’s wings are a hazy blur as they jump back and forth between planes, unable to control himself as he watches Sam’s do the same.  Cas’s fingers slide into Sam’s hair, tangling it between his knuckles and he pulls, Sam biting down on his bottom lip because the sensation goes right to his halo and then pours down his back like molten metal, slow and burning and amazing.  Sam does the same as best he can to Cas, wanting him to feel the same and Cas groans mightily, so loud and deep that it rattles Sam down to his bones.

            Sam pushes Cas down onto his back, hands sliding down from Cas’s head and over his body, tugging at his pierced nipples.  Cas rolls his hips up into Sam’s, erection plainly obvious in his slacks and it kicks Sam’s already high degree of want up about six more notches, pushing Cas out from under him as he gets up and shucks off his jeans, taking his underwear off with them and he naked, Cas’s gaze raking hungrily over his body as he sheds the rest of his clothes and pulls Sam back down on the bed, bodies naked as they slot together and feeling all of that skin against him drive Cas wild.

            Sam bites down Cas’s torso, over Sam’s initials on his right pectoral and the Ten Commandments on his right side in Enochian, more tattoos he’s picked up in the last year, continuing on down to Cas’s dick, hard and wet and leaking.  Sam warms his hands with Grace before he touches him, slowly drawing down his foreskin with his right hand and cupping Cas’s balls with the left, making Cas groan and grab for Sam’s forearms.  Sam watches as Cas’s shiny pink cock head disappears back under his foreskin as he strokes up, a large bead of precome gathering at the tip, silvery and tempting and that’s all it takes for Sam to bend forward and take Cas in his mouth.

            Cas swears loudly in Latin, especially since Sam’s feeling like a champion cocksucker today and goes all the way down on his husband, feeling Sam’s eyelashes against his stomach, tugging his hair again and it makes Sam groan, the vibrations from his voice making Cas’s Grace resonate loudly in his ears.  He moves one hand down from Sam’s head and massages his right oil gland, watching the slick start to ooze out, using his flexibility to move to one side and coat Sam’s hole with it, using his Grace and fingers to work him open and it makes Sam falter on his cock, tugging at his balls from the sudden sensation on his ass and it’s only with a mighty effort he manages to start up again, his head bobbing up and down on Cas’s cock and it’s a tug of war over who can keep up their concentration the longest, Grace ringing hot in the air and they can feel it pressing in on each other’s skin, like they’re both standing far too close to a fire but it’s more than okay if they burn each other.

            Cas focuses his Grace more, the invisible fingers stretching Sam even wider and he can feel that tight heat, getting more and more desperate for it the longer Sam stays down on him.  Sam knows Cas is ready, knows _he’s_ ready, pulling off of Cas with a wet, resonate pop and he climbs into Cas’s lap, pushing him back down on the bed so that he looms huge over him, keeping one hand pressed to Cas’s chest as he gathers up some more of the wing oil dripping down his back and slicks up Cas’s dick, double checking himself as he eases himself down, Cas’s hands holding onto his hips to help steady him and Sam’s head falls forward as Cas enters him, wing oil sealing their Grace together even tighter at that point of contact, all the way down until Sam’s flush with Cas’s body.

            Sam grins down at Cas, leaning down so that the end of his hair brushes against Cas’s cheeks.  “Think you can handle me?”  
            “I know I can.”  Cas yanks Sam down for a kiss, hard and biting, making Sam growl as he jumps right into rocking his hips, snake like in their motion and God it’s fantastic, the yoga they do on a regular basis keeping Sam good and loose and Cas may be topping but Sam’s definitely the one in control here, drawing back from Cas’s face and putting his hands around Cas’s neck, pressing his thumbs down a little on his windpipe – Cas feels himself get even harder, making Grace flare in his eyes and wings, rippling the feathers in a dazzling display of shiny black and purple. 

            Sam’s more than pleased with that particular reaction, smiling as he sucks that pretty pink bottom lip into his mouth, tossing his head so that one eye is hidden behind his hair, Cas’s arms wrapped around Sam’s, gripping his bulging biceps and Sam feels so, so strong and vital right now, keeping Cas exactly where he wants him and he’s not even using his Grace to do so.  He’s beautiful, more so than the constellations they’ve seen up close and best of all he’s _his._

_You always look so damn good when you ride me babe._

_Well you know I like to be on top and this way you get a good show._ To add to his last point Sam sits back, putting his arms behind his head and rolling his entire body, abs and tattoos flexing, the 23rd Psalm on his left thigh bulging forward every time he flexes his core, every single ab looking like it’s cut from the most perfect marble in existence.

            _Make that an excellent show._ Even telepathically Cas’s voice sounds wrecked and Sam just smiles wider, stepping up his performance so that he’s bouncing on Cas’s dick, each time he comes back down the connecting of their bodies making a loud smack, the stinging feeling on Cas’s skin growing every time Sam comes back down hard.  He’s known his husband is a power bottom to the nth degree for a long time now but even then he’s never seen him so plainly uninhibited.

            _Only the best for you Cas, you know that._ Sam clenches his ass as he sinks all the way down, Cas deeper than deep inside him and for a long second their Grace connects completely, each and every atom flying together and it puts them both on the fast track to climax, Sam letting go and then his movements become desperate and rushed, Cas getting the clue and reaching for Sam’s cock, doing his best to jack him off while trying to not fall apart, especially since Sam’s wings are such a beholding sight right now, almost gold with Grace and they flicker against his skin, like embers from a slow-burning fire.

            Sam feels his orgasm first, given that Cas is doing a particularly good job of stroking him and he’s managed to angle himself just right to where he’s slamming down and back on his own prostate every time, speeding him along orgasm and Cas sees and feels it, Sam’s cock thickening in his hand and he moves up to the head, right where Sam’s foreskin is the most sensitive and he tightens his grip, pulling forward and back four quick times and Sam erupts all over him, the first shot sailing clean over Cas’s head to spatter thick and heavy on the wall behind him and the rest goes either on the bed or Cas’s face, shiny white globs that decorate Cas and their surroundings almost completely and it makes Cas come too, feeling himself shoot deep inside Sam’s ass, their Grace roaring so loudly that they don’t hear each other’s screams of pleasure or the neighbors banging on the wall to keep it down.

            Sam recovers first, leaning down and licking his own load up from where it’s gathered on Cas’s chest and in the hollow of his throat, moving in an unbroken line up to Cas’s mouth and pushing it in, smelling bleachy but tasting pure, sealing his mouth over Cas’s as they trade it back and forth.  As he does so he moves off of Cas’s cock, pushing his Grace out to get him hard again.  Cas’s eyes screw shut tight as he moans into Sam’s mouth, his toes curling because he already knows Sam’s not done with him.

            Sam pulls back, come dripping off his chin and making a sticky mess of his chest hair where he laid down on top of Cas, licking his lips as he moves off of his husband.  Cas already looks a fucked out mess but all the same his cock is half-full again already, trying to catch his breath as Sam’s big hands grip him and pull him up, kissing him hungrily again for a moment before he manhandles him to where he’s on all fours – Cas shivers with anticipation because he loves when Sam gets rough with him like this, just another sign that he’s very much sure of what he’s doing.

            “You know it’s your own fault, this state you’ve put me in.”  The words are said into the middle of Cas’s shoulders, Sam kissing back and forth between Cas’s swollen oil glands and feeling and tasting them continue to leak on his skin.

            “Your first molt is special – I just wanted to give you something memorable.”  Cas’s voice is hoarse, swallowing and tasting Sam’s come in his mouth anew.

            “You’ve succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.”  Right as Cas is about to fire back a reply Sam yanks back on his hips and spreads his ass wide, going right for his hole and dragging his tongue rough and wet up from the hang of his balls to where his back ends, Grace infused in the motion and Cas’s entire being, both corporeal and angelic, shakes and light up with anticipation because Sam’s really, really fucking good at this, eating Cas out until he forgets his own name. 

            And right now Sam’s already on his way to making him forget at least how to spell it, licking slow and then fast around the rim, across, keeping Cas off balance until he cork screw his tongue in, coated with Cas’s wing oil and it makes Cas drop further on the bed, pushing his ass back and out, trying to spread himself even more and rub himself against Sam’s mouth but Sam holds him steady, stilling him with a growl as he seals his mouth over Cas’s hole, licking in deep and it brings tears of pleasure to Cas’s eyes, his wings twitching seemingly with every beat of his heart. 

            Sam can feel Cas’s body opening up to him, his Grace reaching out to seek that heavenly connection again, beckoning towards him as plainly as if it were Cas gesturing with his hands, proud of how it comes naturally at this point for their bodies to desire this bond – Sam spends another few minutes using his Grace to finish prepping Cas like he’d had done to him before, finally pulling back and taking a breath.  Sam reaches behind himself and inserts three fingers into his still stretched hole, retrieving the mess of come and oil still inside him and slicking his own cock up with it, Cas looking back over his shoulder at what Sam’s doing and whining when he feels Sam tease at his hole with the head.

            “Sounds like someone’s a little desperate.”  Sam bends forward and bites down on Cas’s left ear, holding the cartilage between his teeth and licking the tip of his tongue over it – he feel’s Cas’s halo burn hot against his face as a result.

            “You’ve… Sam, _please_.” Cas isn’t at all too proud to bed at this point because Sam’s nearly broken him and he _needs_ the release so badly it hurts.

            “You always know to ask so nicely right away.  Fucking love that about you babe.”  Sam’s not going to string him along any more than that because between each other’s Grace burning in their cells and the fact that he’s even hornier than before he’s ready to explode.  He scissors his fingers into Cas anyway, just to give himself a moment to center and focus before he enters him, making Cas bite the pillow underneath him and whine again.  Sam pulls his fingers out brings them up to Cas’s mouth, feeling his lips part and suck them in as Sam pushes his way into Cas’s body, still a little too tight and more than glad for the fact that wing oil is the best damn lube in the universe. 

            Cas moans around Sam’s digits in his mouth, chin getting messy with spit when Sam pulls them out and finds Cas’s hands with his own, threading their fingers together and using his weight to bend Cas downwards, Cas’s feathers sliding against his skin and leaving his arms covered in little red burn marks where they touch against him.  He keeps going until Cas’s back is arched as far as it will go and he’s buried as deep inside as possible – the angle makes all sorts of sensations much clearer and sharper than normal and Sam absolutely fucking loves it.

            “This what you wanted Cas?”  Sam starts to move his hips, using a similar rolling motion like he had done when he was riding him earlier.  “My cock so far deep in you that you can’t feel anything else?”  The words are whispered into Cas’s ear and it only gives them more impact, Sam’s low, growly baritone underpinning them, made deeper by his super-heightened arousal and Grace.

            “Y… yes.” It’s not often Sam manages to reduce his husband to a stammering mess so he’s going to enjoy every damn second of this, chuckling low in his throat as he bites Cas’s neck.

            “You fucking love this.  Being bent and turned like this.  Fucking love being _bred_.  You want that, don’t you?  My come so far deep inside you that it won’t even leak out of you?”  Sam’s been fucking Cas slow and deep the whole time he’s been pouring filth into his ear, each thrust smacking hard and Cas literally can’t do anything but stay where he is and take it – Sam’s amount of control hasn’t let up in the least.  It’s animalistic, primal, the way he’s got Cas held down and he loves it, loves being dominated and yes, _bred_.

            “Answer me.”

            “I do.”

            “Do what?”

            “Love being held down and fucked.  Bred.  Your come so fucking deep in me.”  Cas has to force the words out because Sam’s dick tends to make his head swim and make him lose any semblance of control over his thoughts.

            Sam growls and starts to fuck him harder, sheer girth and pressure keeping Cas right on the edge of orgasm and he’s already close, Sam pushing his Grace hard against him and it makes him go cross eyed, his body slack and cock rock hard, come being pushed out of him and all it takes is one hard thrust placed just right and he comes, not the normal watery mess he makes but thick and heavy, dripping down his cock as he feels Sam climax with him, teeth sunk into the nape of his neck and he has to be careful to not collapse under Sam, Sam’s hips thrusting three more times before he finishes, getting his arms around Cas and easing him down to one side so that he’s not laying in a puddle of jizz, both of them breathing hard as their wings disappear and it’s just them, the air blasted clean around them.

            “You okay?”  Sam asks after a while, finally having managed to collect himself.

            “Yes.”  Cas tucks himself back against Sam’s body, soft cock still inside him and it’s warm, here, surrounded and still filled up, Sam dropping little kisses along his neck and shoulder.  “May we stay like this for a while?”

            “Of course.” 

            Sam gives his husband a tender kiss to the lips.

.  .  .

            Solstices always bring out the worst in the supernatural.

            What makes them even worse are when they happen close to home.

            It’s just turned spring and Sam and Castiel are in Topeka, investigating what Sam thinks is a witch.  Or a warlock.  Either way, it’s a powerful being that’s been leaving a string of dead bodies all around the city, most of them mutilated in positively horrific ways – its favorite method of execution appears to be slow bleeding them with tiny puncture wounds so that death is slow and painful and then turning the bodies inside out.  They also turn up horribly aged, when they can tell it there’s gray or white hair, along with skin that looks like it’s been sucked dry.  Sam feels more than a little sorry for them because it had to hurt, the way they went.  Dean, for once, decided to sit this one out and provide back up from home – surely two powerful angels could handle this one.

            They’re in one of the city’s parks and it’s dark as hell – several victims have disappeared and then summarily returned following their grisly ends to one section of a running trail and from what they’ve managed to piece together is that all of the victims were last seen in the hour before dawn – early morning runners mostly.  Their target also doesn’t discriminate between men and women, save for the fact that they were all under thirty five and healthy.  Sam believes that it’s after their youth and vitality, which means that whatever it is, it’s been growing stronger and stronger.  He’s got his Grace on high alert, ears tuned to the slightest changes in atmosphere and sound but even then it’s not exactly fail proof – witches can be extremely hard to detect.  He’s found hex bags in the bushes but demolishing them hasn’t diminished the presence of darkness here.

            He sees Cas across the trail from him, eyes closed and fingers to the ground, using his Grace to try and get a fix on this thing’s trail but there’s nothing to latch onto, save for this pervasive feeling of gloom.  Sam bends and does the same, thinking that perhaps if they use their combined energies they may be able to get a lead on their quarry – Sam feels nothing aside from Cas’s Grace flowing through the ground and the soil, the insects and leaves and grass that are slowly dying due to the dark magic that’s hanging around the area.

            Cas’s back is turned from Sam, moving to a spot about thirty feet away to try and get a better read on the ground.  He settles down and looks up, about to ask Sam a question and then he realizes something’s wrong – he doesn’t feel Sam’s Grace.

            Or presence.

            He doesn’t even see him.

            He looks up, trying to see if maybe Sam flew off because he felt something but he’s nowhere to be found, no distant flap of wings in the sky.

            For the first time in a very, very long while Castiel _panics._

_Sam?_

No answer.

            He moves over to the spot where Sam was last standing and there’s the faintest flicker of his Grace where he’d been seemingly snatched into thin air.  There’s also this cloying feeling of evil there, the strongest they’ve felt in this spot in the four days they’ve been here.

            Which means he has a lead now.

            Fumbling to get his phone from his pocket he puts aside his fear for a moment – he needs to call Dean.

            “Hello?” comes the sleepy voice from the end of the line.

            “Dean, I need your help.”  Cas continues to push his Grace out to try and lock onto their target’s path.

            “Is everything okay?”  He hears Dean get up and start to move, no doubt going to the library where he can get more information.

            “Later.  Right now I need a spell – something to trace a witch, or at least something like it.  A powerful one.”

            Dean rubs sleepy eyes as he peruses the section on withcraft, pulling out the largest tome available. “A tracking spell?”

            “Yes.”

            Dean reads off six or seven until Cas finally says he thinks he’s got it and hangs up without further explanation.  Dean knows they can handle it, he does.

            It doesn’t quell the sense of impending doom in his gut in the least though.

            Time to head to Topeka.

.  .  .

            When Sam wakes up, there’s red clouding his vision.

            There’s a dimly flickering light somewhere in front of him, along with what he thinks is smoke, given the way his eyes sting when he tries to open them.

            Oh and then there’s the pain.

            Horrible, consuming, claws deep in every cell pain.  Like someone’s split open every molecule of his body and pulled its innards out. 

            He’ll worry about that when he figures out how to move.

            Sam manages to raise his head, the motion making his neck feel like it’s been cut through to the bone and he hears something wet – he realizes it’s his own blood and that scares him.  He tries to call upon his Grace to heal himself only to realize that it’s not there.  He’s not so damaged as to where he isn’t aware that that dull background hum, that vitality he’s felt for the last year and a half –

            It’s not there.

            Now he’s _terrified._

It’s also now that he realizes he’s bound in a crucifix-esque position, feet tied at the ankles and his hands to either side.  His wings are also out but they shouldn’t be and they don’t feel whole, not at all.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees that they’re tattered and torn at the edges and the right one is definitely broken – there’s bone sticking out of the top and that’s when the tears of helplessness start to flow, making tracks through the dried blood on his face.

            “I thought that last extraction would have killed you.”  There’s a voice that sounds like a jar of nails shattering, followed by a disgusted snort.  “Then again, you’re far stronger than I could have possibly thought.”

            Sam manages to screw up an ounce of defiance as he speaks.  “Fucking around with an angel isn’t the smartest move.”  It hurts like hell to talk but it does make him feel slightly less dead.

            “I would have got the other one too but you’ve got more than enough power for my intentions.”  The source of the voice finally steps into view and yep, definitely a witch.  Female, long red hair, fingernails as sharp as stiletto blades and if there was ever a fairytale witch then she fits the bill perfectly – save for the fact that they aren’t real and Sam can _feel_ the evil rolling off of her.  “Besides, he can’t find you.  I’ve been dodging angels for over a thousand years.”

            Sam sneers – or at least he thinks he does.  “Castiel is far more powerful than you think he is.”

            The witch pauses.  “What did you say – that name.”

            Sam realizes that he hears panic in the witch’s voice.  “Castiel.”  He smiles when he feels her move away and he has just enough perception left to feel that she’s starting to become a little less self-confident. Not that he’s been awake long enough to experience her smugness – he also realizes that he’s grateful for that small blessing.

            If it can he called such.

            The witch regains her somewhat haughty air.  “No matter” she says with a wave of her hand.  “Not even he can find me.  And I’m glad your awake – you’re going to hurt more than you can possibly imagine.”  She produces a syringe, much like the one he used on Crowley during the Trials except far more medieval and dangerous looking and she’s going for his neck – the same place where he’s bleeding and he’s bracing himself-

            _“REBECCA!”_

Rebecca shrieks, turning towards the source of her disturbance and there’s Castiel, eyes glowing and his wings absolutely huge with heavenly wrath – there’s also Dean, armed with an angel blade and a silver crucifix.  She throws a ball of energy towards them but it doesn’t even phase Cas – he and Sam’s Grace has melded so many times that it simply dissipates and the room is filled with heavenly light, Rebecca being backed into a corner and Sam’s eardrums are ringing horrifically with divine power, Castiel’s presence so loud that he has to shut his eyes and try to turn his head away from it.

            Rebecca, for her part, doesn’t back down.  “I don’t know how you found me but you’ve made a mistake coming here Cas.  Your boyfriend’s as good as dead.”  She sneers at him, glowing energy in her hands and right as she’s about to try and zap them again Dean tosses the cross at her, rolling some ancient spell off his tongue followed being impaled by the angel blade – Cas rushes his wrath into the puncture the knife makes and then with a world-ending shriek Rebecca ceases to exist.

            And that’s when the lights go out and Sam’s no longer aware of anything.

.  .  .

            “Sammy?”

            Dean’s worried, more worried than he’s ever been before.  Not when he was about to be torn apart by hellhounds, not when he watched Sam jump into the pit – this is worse, a million times worse because he thought Sam was safe, finally unable to be touched in any hurtful way and yet here he is – bleeding in his arms.

            Like Cold Oak all over again.

            “Dean, I need to see him.”  Cas’s voice is just barely stable, already fearing the worst.  “Please.”

            Dean moves aside but doesn’t let Sam slip from his grasp.  Cas gets to his knees, touches his hand to Sam’s forehead – there’s the faintest pulse of life but he has to get Sam out of here _now._

            “I need to move him.  There’s… Dean I can’t find his Grace.”  Cas’s eyes sting with tears, his bottom lip quivering because Sam looks completely and utterly _broken._

“What, she took it?”

            “She couldn’t have.  Only other angels can destroy it.  But it’s been pulled from his cells.”  Cas can feel the millions of tiny wounds littering Sam’s flesh – and all it took was twenty four hours for her to do this to him.  Had they been five minutes later he’d be….

            “Is this it?”  Dean picks up a box from the destroyed chamber’s floor, light glowing from inside its closed lid. 

            Cas allows himself a small measure of relief.  “Yes.  But I can’t put it back in him now.  His body’s too-“

            “Don’t say it Cas, let’s just go.” 

            “I can’t fly with him.  Not in this condition.”  Cas lifts Sam from the floor, holding him in his arms and he suddenly feels very, very small, broken wings dragging against the ground and it absolutely breaks his heart. 

            _I’m so, so sorry my angel._

“Then we need to get back to Lebanon sooner rather than later.”  Dean’s about to cry because he sees it too, the way Sam’s broken and beaten.

            _I’m sorry Sammy._

They come out of the witch’s coven without mishap – she had hidden Sam away deep in the woods outside Topeka and they’d managed to track her thanks to a spell so old not even Castiel could wrap his tongue around the words.  Not that it mattered now – they had found Sam, and that was enough.

            But they also may have been too late.

            The drive back to Lebanon seems to take forever – Castiel stays in the backseat, arms wrapped around Sam’s body, keeping a constant flow of Grace to try and heal some of his damaged cells – he won’t know how bad it is until he can properly lay Sam out and look him over better.

            He hums A Closer Walk With Thee the whole way there, Dean nervously flicking his gaze behind him every few minutes at them, Cas’s hands covered in Sam’s blood and he wipes his eyes, praying in his mind to anyone who will listen.

            Cas hears every word of it and each syllable only makes him cling harder to his broken husband.

            They arrive back at the bunker in the late afternoon – Dean’s out of the car and to the rear left passenger door sooner than Cas can realize, helping him ease Sam out.  Cas won’t let Dean help him carry Sam, simply saying “infirmary” and they go there, Dean leading the way and turning the lights on as they descend.  He adjusts the examination table to accommodate Sam’s bulk, Cas laying him down once it’s laid out as gently as he can.

            “Can you cut away his clothes?”  Castiel stands at the ready with his Grace as Dean cuts Sam’s tattered shirt and jeans away, leaving him in his underwear to preserve his modesty – Sam’s shoes had been removed by the witch shortly after she’s taken him.  What lay underneath the tattered remains of his clothing is precisely what Cas had feared – witches were capable of tearing an angel’s Grace out for their own gain and that’s precisely what Rebecca had been doing, every pore of Sam’s body ringed with a burn mark from where his heavenly essence had been pulled from his ruptured cells.  His neck had merely been her entry point.  If anything, she’d likely sensed Sam’s immense power from far away and resorted to killing people to draw he and Castiel her way.

            She had drained nearly every drop from Sam and left his body in worse condition that after he’d completed the Trials.  The fact that Sam wasn’t dead already just reaffirmed his faith in miracles.

            “Can you heal him?”  Cas notices that Dean doesn’t say fix – a sign of how times have changed.

            Cas wipes away a tear and places his hands on either side of Sam’s head.  “I’m not sure, Dean.  You may need to-“

            “Don’t.  Just… don’t Cas.”  Dean turned his back and left, deciding that he wouldn’t come back until he knew something further.  As much as he wanted to be at his brother’s side right now he just couldn’t bear to see him so _damaged._

Cas draws a long, shuddering breath and closes his eyes, pushing his Grace deep into Sam’s body.  There is barely any life left in him, what had been so strong not two days ago quickly turned into waste and destruction.  Castiel is angry, bitter -  but anger will not save Sam – he has to focus right now and even if it takes every single bit of his own Grace to heal Sam, he will do it.

            He starts at the nucleus of each atom that make up Sam’s body – there’s stardust here, as precious and pure as it had been on the day of its creation.  Sam’s made of extremely strong material, has been since birth.  Castiel’s never healed someone quite so broken but this is Sam, _his_ Sam, the one being he loves more than anything else in the universe. If he can repair him and bring him back from the brink of death, then there’s a chance that he’ll live.

            Cas doesn’t know if he has that sort of power but he’s going to _try_.

            Sam hangs in balance for a week – Castiel can’t heal him too much at one time because his body cannot handle the massive influx of pure, divine energy all at one time – he truly is rebuilding Sam, restoring him as he had been when he’d taken him to heaven to receive his Grace.  Not even when he’s pulled Sam from The Cage had Sam been so… Castiel can’t bring himself to say the word _damaged_ again because he’s seen Sam damaged before and refuses to keep thinking of him as such – laid low on the deepest possible level yes but he’s not gone, not yet.

            Dean sometimes hovers outside the door but he never enters, still unable to watch and the toll it’s taking on Cas’s body and being is… concerning.  Cas has never looked anything less than the image of perfect health but now his skin is dull, pale, even flaky in some places – Cas is giving his very life force over to save Sam.  Throughout this process Cas hasn’t once given concern to himself, only for Sam. If it costs him his angelic presence then so be it – Sam’s worth it to him.

            It’s very, very late a week later when Cas finished repairing Sam’s body – he’s done all that he can and now it’s up to Sam’s rebuilt cells to take over and finish the job.  Castiel’s coat hangs heavy on his spent body, as though it’s going to drag him right down to the floor, his eyes bloodshot and drained.  There’s one final step and even then he’s not entirely sure that Sam will survive it – to return his Grace to his body.  It’s heavy in his hands as he opens the box Rebecca had contained it with – not even the darkness of a powerful witch could diminish its brilliance and purity.  Castiel can feel its radiance as he pauses, looking at it and then back at Sam.

            There’s the chance he will live but…

            “For he who has always had faith Castiel, you doubt at the strangest times.”

            Cas turns and there’s God Himself standing in the middle of the room, His might not reduced in the slightest by being out of His House. 

            “Father!”  Cas drops to one knee and bows, as deeply as he can.

            “My Son, your sacrifice has not gone unnoticed.  Truly an extension of heaven, your efforts have been.  To willingly be ready to give your life for this… incredible boy.”

            Cas raises himself off the floor but keep his head bowed.  “I only ask that he be allowed to live, if it is my time to rejoin You permanently.”

            Of course, Cas can’t see God smile but he feels it like sunlight right across his face.  “I intend to keep the promise I made to you – about you remaining with Sam on earth as long as you please.”  God steps closer to where Castiel stands and tilts his chin up.  “My Son, you are the far noblest and selfless of all of your brethren.  If only they would take your example instead of question Me.”  When God steps away, Cas’s body is healed, returned to health and before he departs, God says “You can save him, Castiel.  All you must do is believe in yourself.”

            And with not so much as a whisper, God departs.

            Castiel takes Sam’s Grace in his hands again, bringing it over to where Sam hasn’t moved in so many days – his flesh is free of any damage and his internal organs are as repaired as Castiel can make them.  Stilling his racing heart, Cas places Sam’s Grace next to his parted lips.  He doesn’t even have to utter a word of incantation – it simply flows back into Sam’s body, slowly, as if it’s unsure of where to go.  Cas speeds it along, able to feel it taking its place back in Sam’s body. 

            Once all of that shining light has disappeared past those lips that Castiel so adores, he leans down and places a gentle kiss to Sam’s lips, pushing out with his restored Grace (thank you, Father) and immediately he feels it connect with Sam’s, as if it had never once been out of place.

            “Are you my sweet prince, come to awaken me?”  The words are a bare whisper from Sam’s mouth but they’re the most beautiful Cas has ever heard and immediately tears of happiness start running down his cheeks.

            “Only if you want me to be” he kisses each syllable into Sam’s mouth and cheeks, holding him to his chest and clinging fiercely.

            Somewhere in the back of his mind Sam thinks that this whole coming back from the dead thing is starting to get old.

            Then again if it’s Castiel waiting at the end of the proverbial tunnel, he doesn’t mind it so much.

.  .  .

            Sam doesn’t heal completely right away – his Grace has to resettle on ground, as it were, that had to be re-built from the bottom up. Sam spends a lot of time resting over the next two weeks as the process works itself out, with Castiel close at hand should anything go amiss.  Sam doesn’t mind in the least, his husband’s continual presence something he quite enjoys.  Two weeks of uninterrupted (save for Dean’s relieved fussing over Sam) time with him is a rare thing and every moment he savors, the two of them practically glued at the hip.

            They read all of the Harry Potter books in that time, taking turns reading out loud from Sam’s Kindle about Parseltongue, the Chamber of Secrets, horcruxes and wands and it’s Cas that doesn’t want to stop reading them – often times he’ll keep reading out loud long after his turn is up and Sam lets him, eyes closed as he listens to his husband’s deep, steady reading voice, snuggled up to his side, one of his wings wrapped around his shoulders.

            In spite of the fact that Sam almost lost his life, this is the closest time to perfect he’s been able to recall in years.

            One morning into the third week of his recovery, Sam gets up early, Castiel still in deep rest as he calls it, quietly slipping out of bed and into his running shorts and shoes, padding down the hallway past dim strip lights and Dean’s snores, too long kept inside and he honestly needs just a little bit to himself.

            He stretches his legs once outside, the first rays of sunshine just peeking over the horizon.  He’s got his Grace turned down low, wanting and needing to feel the ache and burn in his muscles from running, intent on creating the sensation himself just to make sure he still can.  He does a few toe touches, working out the kinks in his back and muscles, taking a moment to look himself over before he starts. All of his tattoos are still in place, Cas having taken care to reconstruct each one, knowing what they mean to him.  With a smile and the simple intent of putting one foot in front of the other as fast as he can he starts to move, the gravel crunching underneath his shoes, a constant, percussive staccato against the piping woodwinds of the morning songbirds in the trees around him.  He’s missed their sound, just as much as he has feeling his blood course through his veins from exertion.

            He doesn’t run as fast as he normally does but it’s perfectly alright – just the fact that he’s running and moving under his own power is enough and yes he could fan out his Grace to take away some of the hurt gathering in his joints but he doesn’t, keeping each flare of pain because it reminds him he’s still alive.  Perhaps Sam’s a bit of a masochist in that regard – Dean would say he definitely is.  Then again, Sam’s always used running as a measure of his own health both in body and spirit.  Not running from the things they hunt but to simply feel the machinery of his own body all lock and sync correctly – it’s the one thing that’s never been taken from him, no matter how bad things became.

            He runs six miles, out to the edge of Lebanon, looking over it before he turns back along the road to the bunker, carefully hidden by trees and some landscaping they’ve done to protect their hideaway – Sam’s finally accepted it as home and the very word warms him down to the core of his burning muscles.  He slows to a jog the last mile, taking the time to feel the sunrise across his back and he tentatively manifests and stretches out his wings that last quarter mile.  It feels _awesome_ to have them out, even if he doesn’t feel quite ready for flight yet, their sheen matching that of the oranges rays reflecting off his feathers and when he reaches the front door he looks up at the sky and smiles, mouthing _thank you_ towards Heaven – Cas had told him that God had intervened and Sam’s still in awe of that fact, that God Himself would come in to save his life.

            Of course, he’d done it once before.

            He slips his shoes off at the top of the stairs, carrying them down so he can feel the cool metal of the staircase underneath his feet.  It feels good, bringing the burning in his legs down a touch. He treads quietly to the kitchen, gulping down two tall glasses of water, wiping his mouth afterwards with the back of one sweaty hand.  He stands against the sink for a moment, feeling the cool air conditioning against his skin.  He sees no reason to tuck his wings away quite yet, considering they haven’t seen the outside world in the last two and a half weeks.  It feels good, giving them a tentative flex, watching the feathers to either side ripple with the gentle motion.  His molt from seven months ago still looks fine, the feathers shiny still with his Grace having been put back into his body.

            He must have missed him when he came back from his run but Cas is there in one of the library chairs, curled up with his head resting on one forearm.  Sam takes a moment to study his husband, smiling as he goes over to where he sits.  Somewhere in the fifteen steps it takes for him to get from where he’s standing over to that chair he realizes he’s really, really horny.  Sixteen days without touching Cas intimately and vice versa beyond a few warm kisses (more if he counts the fact that the last time they had sex was before the encounter with Rebecca) because Cas has been super careful of overexerting him.

            Sam’s about had enough of that line of thinking.

            Easing himself to the floor he reaches one hand for Cas’s head, gently running his fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead, the other going for his crotch – Cas is wearing one of Sam’s old t-shirts and his favorite pajama pants and it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, looking so relaxed and calm and he just can’t help but touch.  Cas stirs a bit, opening his eyes and picking his head up, only for Sam to kiss him right away.  Cas engages in it for a moment before he sits up a little more, allowing Sam to touch him more.

            “Could have stayed in bed babe, promise I was coming back.”  Sam cups his hand on Cas’s crotch, pulling forward gently and it makes his balls rub against the soft fabric, earning Sam a moan that’s prettier than the songbirds he heard earlier.

            “Wasn’t as warm without you there.”  Cas’s hands reach for the back of Sam’s head as he opens his mouth for another kiss – Sam takes advantage of it, licking in deep for a taste and there it is, the clean, pure tang that hasn’t changed the entire time he and Cas have been together – he’s also glad that the angel has never once suffered from morning breath and Cas has never protested against Sam’s.

            “Could always go back there…”  Sam thumbs at the head of Cas’s cock through his pajamas, making him whine for more.

            “Can we?”  Cas is apparently feeling the same as Sam, given how hard he’s just become from Sam’s attention and Sam’s barely even gotten him good and going yet.

            “Of course.”  Sam stands, dragging Cas up with him.  He can see his nipple piercings through his shirt, kissing Cas again as he gently tweaks them between his thumb and forefingers, Cas trying to rub himself against Sam’s thigh and it makes Sam growl into his mouth, reaching for Cas’s firm little bubble but and he lifts, the kiss not breaking for an instant and suddenly he feels his Grace warm further inside him, reaching out to Castiel’s – it feels wonderful, to begin slipping back into this sort of connection, to feel Cas so intimately.  He’s missed it and suddenly he’s burning hot with desire, Cas’s legs wrapped around his waist and his bare feet crossed in the small of his back, erection hard and obvious against his stomach – Sam has no trouble at all carrying them to the room they share exactly like this, kissing Cas the whole way as his husband moves between hanging onto his shoulders and groping his oil glands, swollen to their fullest with arousal.

            Sam lays Cas down on the bed when they get up to their room, peeling off his running shorts and jockstrap as Cas sheds his pajamas, both of them naked quick as a flash and then Cas is pulling Sam down to the bed on top of him, hands sliding up from his hips and into the space between Sam’s wings, fingers massaging and working the roots and Sam’s hot there, biting into Cas’s mouth as he palpates his oil glands, clear slick oozing out of them and the make Sam rut against Cas’s hips, cock positively leaking with precome, making him stick to Cas’s skin.  Sam smells like sweat and ozone and pure, burning arousal, driving Cas absolutely mad – he’s missed Sam’s body against his like this just as much as Sam has.

            “I want you to fuck me.”  Cas’s whisper is husky, direct – as he so often is with Sam in bed.  There’s never really any sort of hiding what Cas wants from his husband intimately – if anything, he’s always been very plainspoken about it.

            Sam, of course, isn’t going to refuse his desire. “Have to get you ready first.”  That doesn’t stop him from rutting lazily against him for a few more moments, just because he can and Cas’s body feels so damned good under his, smallish and hot and perfectly matched to fit right up to his own.  Sam flips them, rolling himself onto his back in one swift motion so that Cas is on top of him now – he gropes and squeezes his ass, pulling his cheeks apart and running his fingers roughly down either side of the cleft, signaling what he wants.  Cas grabs two fistfuls of Sam’s hair and kisses him hard, feeling his halo against the skin of his hands, kissing him hungrily because he wants to taste the sweat on Sam’s lips for a second more. 

            Growling, Sam shifts Cas around to where he’s straddling his chest backwards, hands holding Cas by the chest and he slides them inward, rubbing back and forth over his nipples – the motion makes Cas’s back arch and he moans, wings manifesting and they’re damned beautiful, Sam taking a moment to stroke them roughly along their edges and it makes the oil start to drip down his back, making Sam growl again as he brings his hands down to hold Cas’ ass apart, tiny pink pucker of his hole inviting Sam to open him up.

            “Get my cock wet” Sam commands, feeling Cas’s left hand wrap around his shaft, pulling back his foreskin before that warm, wet mouth seals over him, swirling around the head.  Sam shuts his eyes and enjoys that sensation for a moment, Cas eagerly lapping up his precome in the process.  Seeing as how Cas is doing such a wonderful job he decides to start repaying the favor, leaning forward and rubbing his thumbs around Cas’s hole for a moment before touching his tongue to the spot, making Cas beg for it a little more, short little moans making Sam’s cock vibrate in his mouth.  Sam pushes out with his Grace as he dives in with his tongue, long curl of warmth going deep into Cas’s body and it makes Cas stop sucking him for a moment, hand still curled tight around his cock as Cas rests his head against Sam’s thigh because _that_ feels really, really fucking good, their Grace sliding and slotting together, just as it should and sure Sam’s tongue feels amazing but what he’s missed the most is this, this deep, intimate connection that only they have.

            Sam, for his part, eats Cas out like his life depends on it.  Cas is clean back here, always is (something Sam has never once been not completely and utterly thankful for), simply tastes of the body and it’s sort of like when he used to go down on Jess except this goes far beyond what they ever did – this is special but it always has been, ever since Cas set aside his misconceptions of this boy with the demon blood and saw the bright, shining soul underneath and it had pulled him in like a constellation.  Sam knows this, doesn’t have to say it out loud and yes when he’s got his husband’s ass in his face is an odd time to think about it and yet it’s never “just sex” with them – Sam’s proud of that fact, that each gesture means something.

            Sam spreads Cas a little wider, opened up under his tongue and he licks long and slow at the soft, warm inner skin, a darker pink than the skin outside of it, the sensation heightened even more by the Grace sparking invisibly at that point of contact – Cas groans again on his cock and Sam feels a blurt of precome against his still sweat damp stomach and he gets the feeling that he needs to get this show on the road now – his stamina’s failing not only due to the fact that Cas has been doing a good job at slobbering on his dick but because his very essence is humming so loudly to touch Cas’s he can’t ignore it.  He spends a few more minutes opening Cas up with his Grace so that he’ll be ready then then he pushes Cas off of him, being pulled down for a kiss as Cas squeezes the oil glands on Sam’s back and coats his fingers, putting them to his hole in anticipation of Sam.

            They move slowly after that, Sam slicking up his cock thoroughly so that he doesn’t hurt Cas any more than necessary, pushing into his body and with it there’s constellations flickering behind his eyelids, energies rushing and roaring in his brain and inner ear and it’s as loud as a tidal wave crashing down on him, each other’s Grace locking up tight together and Cas’s arms and legs go around him the moment he’s fully seated inside, pulling Sam in as close as he can and hitching his legs up as a tell to get moving, kissing Sam on the mouth because he needs to taste as much as feel him.  Cas isn’t often what Sam would call _needy_ but right now he is.

            And that’s more than alright.

            They make slow, deep love, each thrust of Sam’s hips mean to convey that he’s still very much alive, still here in Cas’s arms and there’s nothing to take him away from him, not here where they’re safe and they don’t even speak through their Grace, simply allow feeling to say everything they need because it surpasses mere words and letters, what they mean to each other.  Sam’s got a mastery of languages now that came with heavenly endowment but there’s not a single one that could ever convey everything he feels for Cas – and he knows it.

            Castiel, out of everyone Sam’s ever met, has understood him on the deepest possible level and there’s simply nothing that will change that.

            They come together with a long, warm shudder, clinging to each other’s bodies and wings and when Sam pulls away to start putting himself back together there are tears tracking down Cas’s cheeks and he hugs Sam tight to his chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders and he’s not letting go – Sam just slips out and pulls his pretty little angel right into his lap, stroking his wings in a gentle, soothing manner and he keeps his eyes closed as he buries the lower half of his face in Cas’s shoulder, rocking him back and forth because he knows, knows the cling of I almost lost you painfully well and he doesn’t let go of Cas until long after his tears have subsided, carrying his limp bodied husband to their bathroom where he runs them a bath and they take their time cleaning each other up, trading slow, soft kisses in between.

.  .  .

            There’s one more tattoo that Sam decides upon before he decides that he’s decorated his body enough.

            He and Castiel are taking a walk a couple weeks later, the clearest afternoon they’ve seen in Kansas all year.  The sky’s bluer than blue, more so that Cas’s eyes and it reflects perfectly in those azure irises, lids half lowered as he listens to Sam speak, the back of his head resting against Sam’s chest as they stand on their hill, Sam’s arms and wings wrapped around him from behind.

            “A phoenix?”

            “Yeah.  Right under my ribcage and then the wings flaring out to the sides.”  Sam gently slips his arms from around Cas’s body and lifts up his shirt, showing off where he wants to have it done.  “And I already have a design for it.”

            Cas stands there for a moment, looking at Sam’s body, brow furrowed in thought.  “May I do it for you Sam?”

            Sam smiles and takes Cas’s hands in his.  “What do you know about giving someone a tattoo?”

            “I gave you and your brother warding on your ribcages.  This isn’t terribly different, really.”  Cas says it all very matter of factly, trying to not leave any room for doubt in his tone.

            “What would you use for ink?”

            “Not ink, Sam.  I could manipulate your cells and Grace.  I can promise you that it doesn’t fade.  Many angels over the course of millennia have decorated themselves as such – and a phoenix, I think, is very appropriate for…” Cas won’t finish the sentence because even the metaphor reminds him too vividly of recently transpired events.

            “Hey, I get it.  That’s why I thought of it, babe.  And I trust you completely, you know that.  I also know that you know my body can handle it again.”  Sam kisses Cas’s forehead, smiling like the afternoon sun at him.

            Cas returns that smile tenfold, nuzzling Sam’s chest and saying “alright.”

            Sam doesn’t have the design drawn per se, the design simply in his head but that’s all Cas needs, taking it from Sam’s mind’s eye and with careful hands he smooths his fingers over Sam’s body in the infirmary, the very place where Sam had sat a month ago in dire need of divine intervention and now… now he’s here and healthy and strong, Cas smiling as he works and Sam closes his eyes, feeling his Grace shift and move across his skin and it doesn’t hurt – if anything, it tickles and he has to hold himself incredibly still as Cas decorates his skin with the utmost care.

            It takes a while but it’s finished soon enough, Cas stepping back as the last light of Grace finishes shining on Sam’s flesh, Sam opening his eyes and he climbs off the table, going over to the mirror and he smiles – it looks better than he could have imagined, the phoenix’s wings streaked through with the same colors as he and Cas’s wings and it’s iridescent, not just plain and flat and he wipes away a tear as Cas comes up behind him and kisses his shoulder, linking his hands right under Sam’s navel.

            “It’s… Cas I don’t know what to say.”

            “There’s no need to say anything, Sam.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat for you if you asked.”  Sam turns and gently cups Cas’s face, kissing him on the lips for a moment before he clears his throat of the emotion swelling in him.

            “Will you fly with me?”

            “Yes.”

            They go outside, Sam still shirtless because he wants to feel the wind against his skin and he takes Cas’s hands, wings full and regal behind them as they take off, Sam leading the way.  They’re there just as soon as they took off but eight hours ahead and the sky’s dark over Rome, the city still pulsing with life even at this hour of night as Sam sets them down on the roof of St. Peter’s Basilica.

            “It’s been so long since I have come to Rome.”  Castiel doesn’t let go of Sam’s hand as he walks towards one edge of the roof, looking down at the people in the square.  “For all of its corruption over the centuries this place has remained the Holy of Holies.”

            “Has God ever touched down here, as it were?”

            Cas smiles, kissing Sam’s bare shoulder.  “God charged his archangels with guiding His people to build this place so yes, it has his blessing and therefore touch.  I am curious though Sam – why are we here?”

            “I’ve been thinking lately about… time.  And Cas as far as I’m concerned we’re _eternal_ now.  When I was on heaven’s wanted list it meant spending all time playing host to Lucifer and… but now this is eternity for us.  Angels.  Earth’ll pass sure – hell it almost has in _my_ lifetime but it didn’t.  So I just thought that maybe being in the Eternal City for a while might help me to come to terms with that.  Eternity.”  Sam looks to Cas, his apprehension and curiosity plain as day on his face. 

            Cas takes Sam’s other hand, rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles.  “I think that maybe we should start small, Sam.  And I’ll be more than glad to enlighten you as much as I can.”  He drops to the stone roof, patting the space next to him and folding his right wing out, inviting Sam to sit within its embrace.  Sam joins him, Cas linking his fingers with Sam’s again on his left leg.

            Castiel speaks, and Sam begins to listen as they watch the stars rise over the Seven Hills.


End file.
